Shatter Me
by Slytherin99
Summary: *Updated 1/27/15* A jealous student slips a potion to her rival, but it has some unforeseen side effects, which only add to the problems of a certain Potions Master. Rated M for awkward situations and possible adult situations. Be warned-this story is still being worked on, and check back for revisions, which will be frequent.


January 5, 1995~

It all started innocently enough, with a glass of cold pumpkin juice.

At the Ravenclaw table, only one seat was empty, right next to Eugenia Hargrove. The fourth-year student looked nervous, and with good reason. If she were to be caught doing what she intended to do, she would almost certainly get detention, if not expelled. She drew her wand, ignoring the chatter of the other students who sat around her.

Whispering softly under her breath, she casually whirled her wand over her head. She wasn't worried about someone spotting her wand-waving, as students practiced wand motion more or less constantly. So long as the charm wasn't detected as something out of the ordinary—and it certainly wasn't an unusual charm for a fourth-year student to be practicing—it would be unlikely to attract much attention. Looking around herself, she swallowed uneasily, and then waved her hand in front of Maria Glossop, the student sitting next to her. Her fellow student didn't even blink, carrying on her conversation with Jenny Schumacher concerning their Charms class assignment as if Eugenia wasn't even there.

_It worked! _The now _disillusioned _Eugenia thought, now fairly glowing with excitement. _Only a few more minutes until she gets here, as she's always late to dinner after Quiddich practice. I'd better hurry._

Being detected while _disillusioned_ was the least of her worries. She knew that she had only a few minutes before a Professor might become suspicious, or her intended victim might arrive early by chance. Either event would mean disaster for her plan.

Quickly, she took a vial from the pocket of her robes. After another quick glance around herself to make sure the charm was still working, she emptied the vial into the glass of pumpkin juice that was set out at the empty seat. Picking up a spoon, she quickly stirred the contents in, and then she dried off the spoon and replaced it with the other silverware at the empty seat.

"_Finite incantaeum._" She whispered, glancing around herself as she ended the charm.

"Maria," She said, turning to the girl next to her, just as the Ravenclaw Quiddich team members began to filter into the Great Hall, "Do you want my sweet roll? I don't really like them that much."

Maria nodded, taking the sweet roll from her with a grateful smile.

"Do you need any help with the Transfiguration essay assignment?" Maria asked, placing the sweet roll on her bread plate.

"Oh, no, I've got that one done already." Eugenia smiled. "It was really not that difficult. You just pull your elbow back slightly just before you do the downward swish, and it all falls into place after that."

"Really? I didn't think of trying that." Her housemate frowned. "I had to work at it for hours to get it to even halfway work. It was really difficult."

"It's easy; I'll show you the wand motion after dinner."

A petite blond, her long hair still damp from a hurried shower, sat down in the empty seat. She picked up the pumpkin juice and drained the glass, letting out a long sigh of satisfaction as she sat down in the empty chair.

"Oh, that is so good!" Exclaimed sixth-year student Marie Delacour, reaching over for the pitcher of pumpkin juice to refill her glass. "Merlin, I am so very thirsty!"

"Rough practice, Marie?" Eugenia asked innocently, intently watching her housemate.

"Oui, 'genia! Coach Hooch, she was brutal this afternoon! Even though there are no games, because of the Triwizard Tournament, we still had to run, up and down the stairs of the bleachers, like a bunch of Muggles! I haven't even gotten a chance to see my cousin Fleur all week!"

Eugenia, nodding her head agreeably as if she cared, watched her most hated rival with eager anticipation.

_The potion should take effect any second now_, she thought, smiling. _You'll get what's coming to you, bitch._

ooOoo

January 9, 1995, afternoon~

"How long have you felt poorly, dear?"

"Um…since the seventh, I think." Marie mumbled around the thermometer in her mouth as she watched Poppy move a wand over her body. "That's when I really started feeling bad."

The Medi-witch removed the thermometer and squinted at the reading, frowning at it.

"Well, you certainly don't seem to have a fever, dear." She said, wiping off the thermometer and putting it away. Reaching up with both hands, she gently palpated the lymph nodes under Marie's jaw, checking for any swelling or tenderness that could indicate a virus or bacterial infection.

"But, I feel cold all the time…and I have chills, too." The girl protested. "I just ache all the time, and I…"

Her voice trailed off, and she blushed.

"What is it, dear?" Poppy asked gently. "You can tell me, I won't tell a soul."

"I don't know how to explain it, Madam Pomphrey." Marie shrugged. "I just have the strangest dreams lately."

"Can you tell me anything about them?"

"No…they make no sense at all. I'm always wandering about Hogwarts in them, in my nightgown, at night. I remember that I'm usually afraid of being caught. I…I always wake up all sweaty, and the covers are all tangled around me, as if I'd been running."

"That's certainly odd." Poppy said, writing some notes in a folder. "In your dream, is something chasing you, perhaps? Do you remember anything about it, what it might be?"

"No, never. It's like I'm trying to find something."

"Do you know what it is?"

"No, no idea." Marie frowned. "But it's important to me, I remember that. I desperately need it. I just can't remember for the life of me what it could be."

ooOoo

January 10, 1995, evening~

As noisy as the evening meal often could be in the Great Hall, you could hear a pin drop this particular evening. The hush was shattered by a metallic clang as a pitcher hit the floor, flung there by a furious Eugenia Hargrove. Instantly, the students erupted into a babble of hushed whispers regarding what the fourth-year Ravenclaw had done as she turned and walked rapidly toward the door to the hallway. Before she reached the doorway, however, the large doors closed with a hollow thunk. Eugenia stamped her foot, glaring at them in frustration.

"Miss Hargrove!" Professor McGonagall snapped as she rapidly approached the Ravenclaw table, with Professor Flitwick running along behind her on his short legs. "What on earth has gotten into you, young lady?!"

Quickly transfiguring a napkin into a heavy terrycloth bathrobe, Minerva quickly put it around Marie's shoulders and cast a warming charm on it, as the student stood there next to the table. She was shivering violently, having just had the pitcher of ice-cold pumpkin juice poured over her head, soaking her robes and school uniform clear through. Her hair was darker now, no longer light honey blonde, and stuck to her face in strands. She looked every bit like a half-drowned cat.

"Miss Hargrove, come with me." Professor Flitwick said with a frown. "We are going to the Headmaster's office."

Abruptly, Marie doubled over with a shriek of pain, forcing Professor Flitwick to catch her instead as the student collapsed in a heap. Taking advantage of the distraction, Eugenia slipped away into the crowd of students, smirking as she used _disillusionment_ to vanish into thin air.

"Hagrid!" Poppy Pomphrey called, lifting her skirts and running as fast as she could to where Marie was now doubled up in agony on the floor. The half-giant got up, easily catching up to her, closely followed by Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape.

Eugenia looked around herself, and then quietly slipped toward the crowd of students waiting to leave near the doors, ending the charm that concealed her. Everyone was gawking at her screaming housemate, so she nearly made it out the door before a shadowy figure materialized in front of her with a _crack _and a swirl of black smoke.

"Tut-tut, Miss Hargrove." Snape said silkily, ropes spouting from the end of his wand that neatly bound her feet and hands. "It would be…rather rude to leave before we get to the bottom of this little spat. Don't you agree?"

ooOoo

Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Flitwick, and Hagrid looked up as Professor Snape came out of the hospital room, followed by Poppy. Severus put his hands in his pockets of his robes and leaned against the wall, frowning, obviously deep in thought.

As the door closed behind her, Poppy surveyed the people in the waiting room uneasily.

"How is she, Poppy?" Asked Professor Flitwick, getting out of his seat next to Dumbledore and walking over to her.

"Well, she's resting now." The Medi-witch said, moving to a chair and sitting down. "I had to give her enough Dreamless Sleep to knock out a hippogriff. This…I've never seen anything like this before."

With a sigh, she removed the bright green earmuffs she was wearing and handed them to Hagrid.

"When you give these back to Pomona, tell her I said they worked wonderfully. It'll be a thousand wonders if that girl has any voice left at all, the way she was screeching."

Hagrid nodded, stuffing the earmuffs in one of the many pockets of his huge overcoat.

"So," Poppy said, looking over at Professor Flitwick, "Filus, did you manage to find out what all of this was about?"

"Just teenage jealousy, it seems." Flitwick sighed. "You know, the usual. Miss Hargrove thought Miss Delacour was looking at her boyfriend too much, and dumped the pumpkin juice on her. Though that would not explain the screaming fit she suffered afterwards, of course."

Poppy shook her head with a disgusted sigh.

"Poppy," Dumbledore said, leaning toward her, "more importantly, have you been able to determine what is ailing Miss Delacour?"

"No, Albus." The Medi-witch said, shaking her head again. "No fever, no tenderness when I examined her. I do hope it's not a curse of some kind. Professor Snape examined her for any signs of Dark Magic, but found nothing. Most perplexing."

"How odd." Flitwick said, frowning. "You're sure she hasn't be hexed?"

"Quite sure, Filus." Snape said dryly. "If she was, it wore off soon after I began to examine her. I found no evidence of a hex or curse. I believe she just had some sort of hysteric fit, a reaction to the assault by Miss Hargrove."

"I'm going to keep her here in the Hospital Wing," Poppy said, "just to observe her for a while."

"Let us know if you find out anything, Poppy." Dumbledore said quietly. "Severus? I suggest that while Miss Hargrove is absent from her room, that you and I go see what might be there."

"Agreed, Headmaster." Snape nodded, following Dumbledore from the room.

ooOoo

The next morning, Marie woke up, surprising Poppy by getting out of bed and wandering up to the front desk, where the Medi-witch was marking her charts. She immediately led Marie to the examination room, where she spent nearly a half hour running her wand over her and muttering diagnostic spells.

"But I'm fine, Poppy." Marie protested. "Really, I feel wonderful. I don't even feel feverish or anything."

"No cramping, no pain?" The medi-witch asked, getting a thermometer. "When you collapsed in the Great Hall, you were screaming like a banshee. I had to borrow some of Professor Sprout's earmuffs that she uses when pruning mandrakes."

"I was?" Marie asked, blushing. "I-I don't remember anything of that."

"Trust me, young lady." Poppy said, sticking the thermometer in her mouth under her tongue, "You were. My ears are still ringing from it."

After another thirty minutes or so of poking, prodding, and wand-waving, Poppy gave in and allowed her to dress and leave the Hospital Wing. Marie felt great, skipping down the hallway exuberantly as she made her way toward Ravenclaw Tower. The sun was shining in the windows, a sight that filled her heart with joy; it meant that Madam Hooch might relent and allow them to work out on their brooms instead.

_Oh, how I love to fly_, she thought happily, speeding up her pace until her feet were fairly flying across the stone floor.

Rounding a corner, she ran smack into someone, falling backwards and landing hard on her bottom, blushing as her skirt rode up on her thighs in a most embarrassing manner.

"Ouch!" She exclaimed irritably, yanking her skirt back down into place and rubbing her fanny. "Watch where you're going, you crétin!"

"Of course." Severus Snape hissed softly, looming over her in his black robes. With a squeak of terror, Marie backed away from him until she hit the wall behind her, trembling with fear. The tall Potions Professor glided toward her, he folded his arms dramatically across his chest as he glared down at the cringing Ravenclaw student.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw for running in the halls, Miss Delacour." He sneered, cocking his head slightly. "As this is not the Quiddich field, nor your personal playground. Also, another ten points will be taken for…foul language. Comprenez-vous? Now, walk to your dormitory, or it will be…detention."

She glared up at him for a moment, furious, her fear of him forgotten, and then scrambled to her feet. It took all of her self-control not to stamp her feet as she walked away from him, she was so angry.

_I utterly despise that awful man_, Marie fumed as she made her way to Ravenclaw tower. _He is so unfair, so…oooh!_

_I hate him. _

She was still so angry that she botched the answer to the riddle at the portrait twice before calming down enough to get into her dorm.

ooOoo

January 25, 1995, nearly dawn~

She sighed drowsily in that twilight between sound sleep and waking up, the first rays of dawn causing her to squeeze her eyes shut more tightly. It was warm in her bed, warmer than usual, and she felt so comfortable, she wanted to sleep some more. With a drowsy yawn, she hugged her pillow a bit tighter.

_Five more minutes,_ she sighed to herself, not willing to leave her warm bed just yet. _Just five more minutes, and then I'll get up._

Her pillow felt odd. Solid and warm, not at all like the feather pillows she usually slept with. With an effort, she opened one eye, frowning groggily. Something didn't seem right here.

Her eyes widened in surprise as she slowly realized that she was not alone in the bed, nor was it her bed, or even her bedroom. In fact, absolutely nothing in the room looked familiar to her at all. A heavy, ornately carved oak four-poster canopy bed, simple in design, but obviously very old. Luxurious dark green flannel sheets, a heavy quilt atop them, with a matching dark green canopy that was trimmed with gold braid overhead. A heavy dresser and bedside table, matched to the bed.

_Pillows don't have…abdominal muscles_, she thought uneasily, a sick feeling coming over her. _I'm in someone's bed…oh, Merlin, this is bad…_

Just as she feared, it was not her pillow that she was hugging to her with her arm, but a grown man, his back to her. Scarcely daring to breathe, she carefully raised herself up in the bed to peer at his face, half hidden as it was by long black hair-

_Professor Snape_.

He was sleeping deeply, his mouth slack, his face for once relaxed and peaceful. She watched him for several minutes, fascinated by this expression on the face of the fearsome Potions professor who terrorized her and her fellow students on a regular basis. With a soft sigh, he rolled over on his back, toward her, frowning slightly as he grasped the quilt and pulled it back up to his chin. After a few more minutes, he drifted back into deeper sleep, snoring lightly.

Marie sat as still as she could, scarcely daring to even breathe. Her blood seemed to have turned to ice in her veins, freezing her in place, half sitting up on the bed in terror. The urge to flee blindly in terror was overwhelming, only checked by her certainty that she would easily be caught if she did.

_Snape. Oh, Merlin…I'm in Snape's quarters, in his bed with him…_

_I have to get out of here_, she thought, struggling to control her panic as she looked around the room for the door. _I have to get out of here right now!_

She eased away from him, sliding out of the bed to the floor. Thankfully, his face was turned away from the door, which made it just a bit easier to slip out of the bedroom. After a few wrong turns, she found herself in the Potions classroom, slowly opening the door to cautiously peek out into the hallway. It was quiet and empty, not even a ghost wandering about the dungeons at this wee hour.

_Looks like there were no wards on the door, at least_, she thought, breathing a sigh of relief. _Thank Merlin for that small bit of luck._

Easing the door shut gently, she cautiously crept down the hallway, her nerves on a raw edge.

_Nearly sunup_, she thought, biting her lip nervously. _I've got to get back to the tower, and quickly._

Her heart caught in her throat as she heard footsteps that seemed all too familiar, coming slowly down the hall.

_Merde! _She thought, trembling where she stood. _It's Filch!_

She quickly hid behind a statue of Cygnus Black II, closing her eyes and holding her breath as she shivered in her flannel nightgown, praying that she wouldn't be noticed.

"What rotten luck, Mrs. Norris." Filch grumbled as he shuffled by, cradling his cat in his arms. "I was sure I'd catch a student out of bed tonight. Could do with some entertainment, couldn't we?"

She waited, holding her breath until Filch rounded the corner, and then made her move, praying that she wouldn't run into anyone else. Her bare feet barely skimming the cold stone floor, she ran through the dungeons like a doe pursued by hounds, desperately trying to make it to Ravenclaw tower before the other students woke up.

ooOoo

With great effort, Severus Snape opened his eyes, squinting against the sunlight that filtered into his bedroom the single window looking out into the lake. He rubbed his eyes, struggling to wakefulness, wishing that is was Sunday and he could perhaps sleep in a bit.

_How disappointing, _he mused grimly, letting out a long sigh of disgust. _I'm still alive_. _How much longer can I keep this game up?_

A wave of pain crashed through his head, causing him to groan in agony as he cradled his aching head in his hands. He licked his lips to moisten them, his mouth dry as cotton lint and tasting about the same.

_Something is coming, I can feel it_, he thought gloomily. _ All too soon, these idyllic, peaceful days will come to an end. Every time I go to Hogsmeade, Knockturn Alley especially, I can feel it in my bones. The Death Eaters, cowed still they might be, but they are more active lately. Something is in the air._

_I hate this bloody tournament. I hate dealing with these boring Ministry lackeys, with that paranoid lunatic Moody, with that pompous windbag Karkaroff. It's bad enough having to suffer through this circus, never mind the fact that someone is trying their hardest to get Harry Potter killed. I wish this stupid contest was over with so I might get some rest._

_But every time I turn around, something has been tampered with, endangering his life. Beginning with his name coming out of that thrice-cursed cup, this has been a string of 'accidents' that are deliberately orchestrated to separate 'the boy who lived' from his life. Someone who is very crafty, very clever, and leaves no clues behind is doing this._

_But who is it?_

_Who is manipulating the tournament? I can name a half-dozen potential suspects, but most of them are disqualified by one reason or another, usually lack of access or motive. Maddening._

_Who stole gillyweed from my private stores? Potter? Granger? _

_Probably a good idea to quit drinking firewhiskey on nights that I've had a dose of Dreamless Sleep_, he thought as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, yawning. _The effects of the combination are somewhat less than desirable._

_I desperately need a hangover potion_; he frowned, rubbing his hand over his face irritably. Something was tickling his nose, despite his best efforts to brush it off.

_Spiderwebs, or that cursed Peeves playing yet another prank_, he sighed irritably, swiping again at it with his hand, feeing it tangle around his fingers. He squinted at it blearily, yawning, as he tried to figure out which it was. As his eyes slowly focused on it in the dim light, he sat bolt upright in the bed with a gasp of surprise.

Tangled around his fingers, much to his shock, was a single long blonde hair.

It was the last straw.

With a muttered curse, he threw the covers back and got out of bed. _Accioing_ his clothing, he dressed quickly. When he stormed out into the hall, fairly seething with rage, the first person he ran into was just who he was looking for: Filch.

"Filch!" Snape hissed. "There has been a student out of bed, roaming the castle. Where have you been?"

Filch gaped at the Potions Professor, momentarily taken aback.

"I…I've been making regular rounds, Professor." He stammered, backing away as he cradled Mrs. Norris protectively. "I haven't seen a student all night long, Sir. Not a one, Sir."

"Obviously." Severus growled, walking briskly away, his black robes billowing out behind him as he continued to grumble. Filch watched him go until he vanished around a corner, and then blew out a sigh of relief.

"All's well, Mrs. Norris." Filch cackled, stroking her fur. "Going to be plenty of detentions today, I wager. It's going to be a great day, by Merlin."

ooOoo

January 5, 2005~

"I hate you." She said in a flat, shaky voice, standing in the doorway. He didn't respond, intent on finely slicing some Chinese motherwort into paper-thin bits. The knife made a faint _crunch_ slicing through the plant, and then an even fainter _click_ as the finely honed edge met the cutting board.

She watched silently as he scraped the slices into a cup, to be added in exactly another five minutes to the concoction bubbling merrily in the silvery cauldron. Carefully, he made a nearly imperceptible adjustment to the flame on the burner underneath it, then took a flannel and wiped his brow. Selecting another ingredient from the bottles and urns in front of him, he quietly continued with his work, as if she weren't even there.

She went back to the sitting room, wrapped in a thick wool blanket, her teeth chattering at times as she shivered violently, standing in front of the roaring fire in the stone fireplace. Occasionally, she rubbed her legs and arms; while it wasn't bad yet, it certainly wouldn't be much longer.

_I just can't get warm enough_, she thought, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself_. A bad sign, as I've learned._

_It's going to be a rough night, I fear._

_Not long now_. _Not long until the cramping pain starts, first in the limbs, then spreading to the torso. Little, almost imperceptible twitches in the muscles, progressing with time to anything from agonizing cramps to full-blown seizures…depending on how bad it gets._

_I do wish he'd hurry up._

She could still hear him, in his little makeshift potions lab that he'd made out of the spare bedroom in the tiny stone cottage. He'd added all of the ingredients, and now was precisely stirring the mixture, carefully counting the number of times he stirred. When he finished, he covered the cauldron, then reduced the flame, casting a _stasis _charm to keep the cauldron at the perfect temperature. Ever the precise, aloof potions master, faithfully following the steps to make the potion that kept her pain bearable.

She went back to the doorway, glaring daggers at his back.

"I said, I hate you!" Marie hissed at him angrily as he stirred the cauldron. "Did you hear me, you bastard?"

"I heard you." Severus Snape said quietly, after checking that the cooling rate was properly controlled by the charms, then wiping sweat from his brow with a flannel. Wiping off his hands as he came into the sitting room, he frowned at the blazing fireplace as he towered over her.

"Must you burn all of my firewood?" He said blandly, taking his wand out and turning toward the fire.

"No! Don't! I'm freezing!" She cried in a panic, catching his wrist to stop him. "Please don't!"

The relief gained by touching him was immediate, and so powerful that it staggered her, causing her to clutch his wrist and arm tightly to prevent herself from collapsing as her knees seemed to turn to water. For a long moment, she clung to him weakly, her cheek against his fine white cotton shirt, barely able to stand on her own. Her breaths came in rapid pants as she fought a wave of dizziness, sobbing into his chest. He stood completely still, waiting patiently for her to recover.

_This is because of me_, he thought as she leaned against him, trembling violently. _This is my fault._

Snape looked down at her, his expression carefully guarded. She had changed considerably since he'd seen her last, some ten years ago. That had been at her graduation from Hogwarts, back in May of 1996, which normally would mark the end of his association with a student. But not her, not with her desperate need to have the potion that only could be brewed with his aid.

_My albatross_, he thought bitterly. _Yet one more poor soul, suffering because of me. I have failed her, in so many ways._

Her hair was cut shorter, no longer down to the small of her back, usually in an ornate braid, as she had worn it when she had been his student. Now the fine blond hair barely reached her shoulders, and was windblown and dirty from her recent travels. She looked rather like a heroin addict, with dark circles under her eyes, trembling all over, her body thin and bony due to years of suffering. Only her eyes were still the same, a deep blue, with greenish-gold specks in them.

Eyes that glared up at him now, full of pain and misery.

_Because of me_, he thought with an inward sigh.

"I hate you so much." She whispered faintly, her voice unsteady, yet dripping with venom. She was halfway hoping that her nails had drawn blood where she'd dug them into his wrist.

"I didn't do this to you." He murmured, half to himself. "I didn't-"

"No, you didn't!" She spat, pushing herself away from him, blue eyes flashing with anger. "You…you just…happened the one that bitch bonded me with! You! Of all the people she could have plucked a hair from! She could have at least picked some ugly boy closer to my age instead of you!"

For a moment, she thought she'd actually made him flinch, just a spark of something in his ebony eyes that made her uneasy for a moment.

As quickly as it appeared, it vanished; replaced by the total lack of expression she so despised seeing. He put his wand away, turning away from her. Only a slight twitch of his tightly pursed lips betrayed his inner turmoil.

"You are the worst person imaginable to be bonded to!" She hissed bitterly, her cheeks pink with anger. "There isn't a compassionate bone in your body! I'd rather be-"

Abruptly Marie sucked in her breath, barely catching herself on the armchair nearby as the cramp folded her nearly in two, taking her breath away. All color had seemingly drained from her face as she frantically gasped for air, fighting to catch her breath. Finally, she turned to him, biting her lip as she looked up at him.

"How…much…longer? Until…it's ready?" She rasped between shallow breaths, her face drawn with pain as she leaned on the chair.

"Eight hours." He said softly.

"Eight-?" She groaned, her knees giving way as she slowly slid to a sitting position on the floor.

_Eight hours!_ She wailed inwardly. _Eight more hours of this? I'll go mad before morning!_

"I'm sorry." Snape said, trying to keep the sneer out of his voice. "Had I known you were coming, I could have started work on the potion a bit sooner. It takes twelve hours to make it, with eight hours of that being spent cooling at a precisely controlled rate. It can't be rushed, or it will be ruined."

She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, wiping her runny nose on it. Seeing Snape's look of disgust, she defiantly glared at him for a moment, and then quite deliberately blew her nose on the fine wool.

Ignoring her, he walked over to a cabinet, returning with a glass and a bottle of firewhiskey. Sitting down in the armchair across the room from her, he poured two fingers into the glass and corked the bottle, with precise, measured motions. Picking up the glass, he swirled the firewhiskey around a little, then took a sip.

"That's better." He sighed, and then looked at her. "Miss Delacour, tell me…exactly how did you run out of the potion? Arrangements had been made to send you a monthly supply by owl, via Poppy."

She bit her lip, considering her response carefully.

"I…when I received the last supply, most of the vials were broken." She lied, being careful to occlude her mind. "The owl…it was terrified, it wouldn't leave, even after I fed and watered it. I think it was caught by a storm or something when it got close to my flat."

"Really." Snape scoffed, raising an eyebrow and taking another sip of firewhiskey.

She bit her lip a bit harder, tasting blood as she struggled to control her temper. She very badly wanted to get up, cross the room and slap that self-satisfied smirk right off his face…but she didn't trust her legs to carry her that far. Already the cramps were starting again, in her lower legs, causing her to choke off a soft moan before it could escape, clamping her jaw tightly shut.

_Merlin, how did things get like this?_ She thought miserably, fresh tears springing up in her eyes. _Why me?_

"Don't you have a telly, or a radio?" She asked, biting nervously at a hangnail. She knew what his answer would be when he looked at her blankly.

"No. I despise the things." He said, taking another sip of firewhiskey. "Besides, we're too far north to get much in the way of good programmes. You may read anything that you wish to from my bookshelf out here in the sitting room, if you like."

Marie sighed, sitting down on the leather couch and wrapping the blanket more snugly around herself.

"You really didn't want to be found, didn't you?" She said, her blue eyes holding his gaze. "I'd say you're about as far north in Scotland as one can get."

"Just about." He replied, picking up a magazine and opening it. Just like that, the conversation was over, with Marie quietly fuming in her blankets on the couch.

For a long time, they sat without speaking, Snape reading and sipping firewhiskey as she shivered in her blanket and tried to read _Beecher's Exotic Birds of Southeast Asia_. Snape stolidly ignored her, rebuffing any attempts at conversation as he thumbed through the latest issue of _Potions Monthly_, pausing every once in a while to scratch some notes in the margin of the magazine with his quill. Finally, as the small grandfather clock struck ten, he rose from his chair and went to his bedroom, coming out with more blankets and a pillow, which he tossed onto the couch next to where she sat. She watched all of this sullenly, shivering in her blanket as she glared up at him.

"You can sleep on the couch." He said, walking back to the doorway of his bedroom, where he paused to look back at her.

"I'll wake you up when the potion is ready, at about seven a.m." With that, Snape went into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Marie stared mutely at the closed door, not sure if she wanted to hex him or cry. For several minutes, she just sat there feeling numb, until the cramping in her legs forced her to move. Spreading the blankets out, she made herself a bed on the couch, lying down and pulling the blankets tightly around herself, shivering violently. She doubted that she would be able to sleep.

ooOoo

He rolled over with an irritated sigh, rubbing his eyes wearily. Reaching over to the night stand, he picked up his old Muggle alarm clock, squinting at the tiny numbers on its face. Two 'o clock.

Replacing it, he plumped his pillow up and lay back down, closing his eyes. Sleep had eluded him quite successfully tonight, no matter what he tried.

He could still hear her in the living room.

Oh, to be sure, she was muffling it somehow, but he could still hear her. It gnawed at his conscience like a hungry rat, an unceasing reminder of his failures.

She'd been just another fifth year student, transferred in from Beauxbartons when her father accepted a cushy job with the Ministry. A completely unnecessary move, in his opinion. It was as if the family couldn't bear to be far from each other, as if there were no such things as floos and portkeys.

Smart, attractive, full of joy, she was sorted into Ravenclaw house. Yet another Delacour, cousin to Fleur, with the same obvious Veela ancestry from a shared grandmother. Just a few inches over five feet tall, with honey blonde hair and blue eyes, fair skin without a single blemish. The boys at Hogwarts virtually fell over each other, vying for her attentions; many of the girls despised her for that. Excellent grades, perfect teeth, she was a superb athlete with uncanny skill on a broom (it didn't take long for her to quickly find a spot on the Ravenclaw Quiddich team), though she struggled a bit with Potions and DADA. Not much of a surprise there; she was careless and sloppy with her work, something he tolerated from no student.

She'd been a chaser, even though she was rather small for that position. Swift, daring, and with what seemed to be a charmed life, she made Ravenclaw a force to be reckoned with on the Quiddich field. While other factors conspired to keep them from the cup, Marie Delacour had been quite an asset to the team with her skill on a broom.

He saw her for what she was back then: just another empty headed little twit, using her charms and beauty to manipulate other students, especially boys, to help her get good marks. All of her charms were lost on him, and he took great pains to remind her of that often, bringing her to the point of tears more than once. Though she often glared at him hatefully when she thought he wouldn't see it, she gradually began to pay more attention in his class, showing the determination that made her such a good chaser on the Quiddich field.

She gradually became much more reserved toward the end of her sixth year, in his class, at least, keeping to herself and working hard on her assignments. Her grades even improved somewhat, to the point that she was reasonably likely to pass. She glared at him less frequently, and was polite and quiet-at least, while she was in his classroom. With smug satisfaction, he decided that she might actually have reformed to the point where he would no longer need to correct her behavior.

Then he'd caught her in his bed late one night.

ooOoo

March 8, 1995, approximately 4 a.m.~

He sighed, instinctively moving closer to the warm body behind him in the bed, the warm hand on his chest, the rather pleasant sensation of soft breasts pressing more firmly against his back-

_Breasts?!_

In an instant, Severus Snape moved from light dozing to full awareness, sitting up in his bed and snatching the covers from her hands.

"Lumos!" He snapped, lighting every candle in the room at once with a flick of his slender fingers.

Cowering in his bed, clutching her flannel nightgown to her chest, her blonde hair loose around her shoulders, was sixth-year Ravenclaw student Marie Delacour. She looked up at him with terror in her blue eyes, trembling violently.

With a muttered oath, he _accio'ed_ his dark green flannel robe and put it on, tying the sash securely. He glared down at her for a moment, struggling to calm himself down. Picking up his wand, he transfigured a flannel into a white bathrobe.

"Put this on." He snapped, tossing it to her as he looked elsewhere. "You are indecent."

"Th-thank you, Sir." She whispered faintly, struggling to put the robe on as she trembled before him.

"Well, Miss Delacour?" Snape hissed, struggling to hold his temper in check. "I trust you have a perfectly good reason that you are in my bed, and not in yours. I await said explanation with eager anticipation. But, then again, perhaps we should wait until I…summon Headmaster Dumbledore. I'm sure he'd like to hear it, as well. Don't you agree?"

Her face had drained of all color. For a moment, her mouth worked, but nothing came out. Snape thought she looked rather like a beached goldfish, gasping for water.

"Well? Out with it, girl!" He snapped impatiently, picking up his wand and using a spell to stoke the fire. Reaching up to the mantel, he took a handful of floo powder, preparing to toss it into the flames.

"Wait! Professor Snape, please!" She cried, holding out a shaky hand to stop him. "I'll be expelled! You mustn't-"

"I mustn't?" He sneered, his voice mocking hers. "I mustn't? How…utterly amusing. Perhaps, Miss Delacour, you should have considered that possible outcome before breaking into my private quarters."

He tossed the powder into the fire, the flames turning green almost instantly.

"Headmaster Dumbledore." He said, crossing his arms.

After a long moment, the greenish face of the headmaster appeared.

"Severus, my boy." Dumbledore smiled, "It's rather late. Are you alright?"

"Headmaster, it appears that I have caught a student out of bed." Snape said coolly, stepping aside so that Dumbledore would see the girl cowering behind him on his bed.

The Headmaster's blue eyes widened behind his spectacles in surprise.

"Oh, dear." Albus frowned, blinking. "I…oh, my. Bring her to my office, Severus."

"Immediately, Headmaster."

ooOoo

Marie sat on the couch near the fireplace in the Headmaster's office, shivering in spite of the warm flannel robe that had been conjured for her, to put on over the terrycloth robe she already wore. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, considering what she'd just told them, while Snape leaned against the mantle of the fireplace, a sour expression on his face.

"Miss Delacour…" Dumbledore said quietly, leaning forward in his chair, "…why have you not talked to someone about this…problem of yours? Your head of house, Poppy, or myself, even? We can't help you if we don't know you have a problem, dear."

"I…I was embarrassed, sir." She said, with a nervous glance at Professor Snape. "It was…most disturbing, finding myself in…Professor Snape's bed. I was terrified that I'd be caught…every time I woke up in his…his…"

Marie blushed deeply, unable to continue as she studied the ornate rug. Dumbledore sat stunned, his mouth agape in shock; Snape looked as if he might have a stroke at any moment. She felt like she wanted to crawl into a hole, anything to get away, to escape the dark eyes that now bored into her.

"Every time?" Snape finally managed to choke out, his face livid with rage, leaning over the back of the couch to glare at her. Marie cringed, pulling away from him. He was clutching the back of the couch tightly, as if to hold himself up, trembling violently with anger.

"You mean it has happened before tonight?" He snapped, incredulous. "And more than once?!"

Hesitantly, Marie nodded, fighting to quell her trembling as he glared at her.

"I…I think this was," She said softly, her voice barely audible, "The eighth…no, the twelfth time it's happened…maybe…I think…" Her voice trailed off to nothing as she cringed at the expression on Professor Snape's face.

"Twelve times…!" He rasped, eyes wide in disbelief as he stared at her.

"I think so, Sir." Marie said softly, blushing even more. "There have been other times…when I…when I could tell I'd been up and about…but I'm not sure if I…you know, um…went to your…quarters."

"You have been in my quarters, in my bed, twelve times…that you are sure of…" Snape hissed, anger flaring anew in his dark eyes. Marie cringed, shrinking away from him once again.

"Please, Severus." Dumbledore said, holding up his hand. "Sit down. You're frightening Miss Delacour, and that isn't helping matters at all. You need to calm down."

Giving her a withering glare, Snape went to the farthest armchair from her and sat down, his face paler than usual. Marie carefully avoided looking in his direction, choosing instead to examine the pink bunny slippers that the Headmaster had thoughtfully conjured to help keep her bare feet warm.

Dumbledore turned back to Marie, giving her a comforting smile.

"Did you ever have problems with sleepwalking before now, dear?" He asked gently. "Perhaps as a child, before or after your magic manifested?"

Snape made a rude noise, glaring over at the Headmaster, who shot him a admonishing look.

"I've never heard of a sleepwalker doing magic, Headmaster." He scoffed. "My room is warded at night, as part of the…normal precautions I take. It would be impossible for a student, even a gifted one, to break in while awake. I rather doubt that Miss Delacour is up to the task. She didn't even have her wand with her."

"Yet it has happened, Severus." Dumbledore said, raising an eyebrow at Snape. "And not once, but several times, according to Miss Delacour. Perhaps you might need to check your wards more carefully. It is possible, since she has been to your quarters more than once, that they have attuned themselves to her magical signature by accident."

"Well, dear?" He asked Marie again. "Do you know if you have ever been a sleepwalker?"

"I…I don't think so, sir." She said, pulling the robe tighter around herself. "At least, my parents never have mentioned anything about me sleepwalking."

"Well, I think you should go see Poppy in the morning, dear. Just to have her check you over, make sure you're alright. You really look like you don't feel well. I'll write you a note to excuse you from your classes for a few days, until you're over this."

Snape suddenly looked rather uncomfortable, as if he had suddenly developed indigestion.

"Albus, I demand-"

"No, Severus." The Headmaster said firmly, "She will not be expelled, not until I investigate this matter further and determine why this has happened."

"Headmaster," Snape said uneasily, "you know as well as I that I cannot have something like this happen when I am…performing some of my 'other duties'."

"Severus! Enough!" Dumbledore snapped angrily, shocking Marie. "We will not be discussing that subject with a student present."

With a huff, Snape leaned back in his chair in disgust, crossing his arms.

Picking up a quill, the Headmaster wrote out a hall pass, which he handed to Marie, along with a large bar of medi-chocolate.

"Eat this right away, my dear." He smiled gently. "You need to keep your strength up."

As the door to the Headmaster's office closed behind her, she paused on the landing for a moment. From the muffled shouting she could hear through the door, it was fairly obvious that Dumbledore and Snape were having it out about whatever it was that shouldn't be discussed in front of students. Swallowing nervously, Marie made her way down the stairs tightly clutching her hall pass in trembling hands. She certainly didn't want to get in any more trouble tonight, and being caught eavesdropping seemed likely to lead to that very thing.

ooOoo

"Severus, I'm quite disappointed in you." Dumbledore said softly as soon as the girl had left. Picking up his wand, he made a few intricate motions, mumbling a bit in Latin; now any eavesdroppers would only hear arguing, with the words being unintelligible.

"I do not care." Snape hissed angrily, leaning back in his chair. "I am not involved with a student. You know me better than that, Albus."

"I did not think you were. While most would frown on such a thing, you need some means to relieve your stress. She is of age, you know. She could be of great comfort to you-"

Severus abruptly got up with a sharp oath, crossing the room to a cabinet. Retrieving a glass, he began poking through bottles of liquor, muttering under his breath. Dumbledore watched the younger wizard silently, a pained expression on his face.

"The firewhiskey is toward the back, to the left side." Dumbledore said with a sigh.

Snape carried the glass and bottle of firewhiskey back to his chair, setting the glass on the table next to the chair and uncorking the bottle. With an unsteady hand, he tried to pour some in the glass, slopping some of the amber liquor on the table and floor. With a muttered curse, he pulled out his wand, _vanishing_ the spilled firewhiskey.

"Albus, I am NOT involved with a student!" The younger wizard hissed angrily, glaring at him as he picked up the bottle again. "Some wizards might stoop to such a thing, but I do not. Such a thing would be most unethical-"

"Allow me, Severus." The Headmaster said, rising to walk over to Snape and taking the firewhiskey from his shaking hands. He poured three fingers into the glass and corked the bottle, then sent it back to the liquor cabinet with a negligent wave of his hand. Shaking his head disapprovingly at the younger wizard, he went back to his chair and sat down.

"I don't believe you need to drink much more than that, Severus." He said sternly.

"I…really don't need this aggravation." Snape said, his voice unsteady. "Not right now. I…have enough to deal with. I don't know exactly what is going on yet, but someone is manipulating the tournament. I'm sure of it."

"Yes, but who? Karkaroff?" Asked the Headmaster.

"He would be a likely suspect, but I have not been able to find anything to implicate him. No, it is someone else."

"Any idea?"

"No." Snape sighed. "Can you talk to that bloody lunatic Moody, get him off my back? The paranoid old fool watches me constantly. I swear, I'm going to hex him if he doesn't back off."

"Just do your best to protect Harry, Severus."

Snape drained the glass of firewhiskey, closing his eyes as the liquor burned its way down his throat.

"I will, Headmaster. I keep my promises."

Snape placed the empty glass on the table, rose from his chair, and left.

Dumbledore gave a sigh of exasperation, shaking his head.

ooOoo

January 6, 2005, 3:18 a.m. ~

Releasing a long pent-up sigh of frustration, Snape threw back the covers, getting out of bed. Putting on his slippers and his robe, he lit the candle in his room, rubbing his eyes wearily, and then opened the door to the sitting room.

She was off the couch, lying on the floor, curled up in a fetal position in a blanket on the rug near the dying fire. As he approached her, she opened her eyes and looked up at him, shivering, her face twisted in agony. Trying to speak, all that came out was a soft whimper, not much louder than the mewl of a kitten. With a sigh of resignation, he knelt, easily picking her up and carrying her into his small bedroom.

"Th-thank you." She whispered hoarsely, shivering as she held on to him tightly. Her hands were rather cold on his skin, causing him to shiver slightly.

"Sorry." She blushed.

"What I am doing, Miss Delacour," He grumbled as he gently placed her on the bed, "is born of purely selfish reasons. I cannot sleep with your constant whimpering, and sleep I must, if I am to be fit to finish making the potion you so desperately need."

"Of course, sir." Marie nodded. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize. This is a purely practical decision on my part." Snape muttered, taking his robe and slippers off before sitting down on the bed.

"Nox." He said, extinguishing the candles and plunging the bedroom into darkness.

After a moment of hesitation, he unbuttoned his top and removed it, tossing it onto his robe on the floor. He picked up his wand and used it to encourage the coals in the bedroom fireplace back to life, the flickering flames quickly warming the room. With a sigh, he climbed into the bed, covering both of them with the thick duvet before lying down, turning his back to her.

"Quite practical." She said softly, sliding her arm around his waist to snuggle up to his back. He jumped in spite of himself, gritting his teeth as her icy fingers made contact with his skin, causing him to shiver involuntarily. If anything, the difference in their body temperature made her shivering worse. Gradually, as she drew warmth from his body, she relaxed a bit, with the chills coming more infrequently.

"Thank you…for taking your shirt off." She whispered softly, a tiny smile creasing her lips. "It…it helps a lot."

"So, you will allow me to sleep now?" He sighed irritably, closing his eyes and trying to relax. It was difficult to ignore her constantly moving fingers on his abdomen; it put him to mind of a cat kneading its paws.

"Yes." She answered, turning her head to rest her cheek against his broad back and closing her eyes with a deep sigh of relief.

After several minutes, he stirred slightly.

"Miss Delacour?" He asked hesitantly, thinking she might be asleep already.

"Yes?"

"How…how did you know I was still alive?"

"I did some research, sir." Marie said softly. "I found that in order for the antidote to work, the hair used in it had to be…freshly plucked. A stasis charm will only keep body tissue, including hair, alive for only one year. I learned that in my 5th year potions class…from you."

"One can renew the stasis charm every year."

"I know that, too." She said, smirking behind his back. "But I ran some experiments of my own, and found that keratin based parts of the body, such as hair and fingernails, can still deteriorate despite the stasis charm. The charm tends to make anything made of keratin hard and brittle over time, and the damage affects potions adversely."

"I see." Severus sighed, conceding the debate.

"Poppy never seemed worried when I flooed her, asking how much was left to make the potion. She always assured me there was plenty."

She hesitated, trying to gauge his mood, as if fearful to continue.

"I went to visit her after the owl delivered the broken vials of potion, to replace them. After I left, telling her I was headed to Hogsmeade to do some shopping, I hid behind the Astronomy Tower and watched from my broom. When Poppy went to the owlry to send the note to you…well, I just followed the owl that she sent out."

"Right to my cottage." Snape sighed in disgust, mainly with himself for being so careless.

"Yes." She nodded. "Sorry about that."

"Unfortunately for you," He said, "you missed the box of the potion that I sent out shortly after the owl arrived. That's why you are in the predicament you are in now."

She blushed, grateful that he couldn't see.

"But I found you." Marie said defiantly.

"You should have been sorted into Slytherin." He grumbled, rubbing his eyes wearily.

"Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment." She smirked, and then closed her eyes.

He lay there awake long after her fingers had ceased their movement, the constant caress that had annoyed him so much for so long. Thinking about the stormy days, so long ago.

ooOoo

April 2, 1995~

"This is outrageous! Headmaster, I would rather resign than do such a thing! If this were to become public, my career would be ruined!"

"Severus, calm down." Headmaster Dumbledore said, holding up his hands. "It's only temporary. It appears to be the only thing that can be done to help her while Poppy and Professors Flitwick and Sprout work on a cure."

"Have you forgotten that I am the Potions Master at this school?" He growled, glaring at each of them in turn.

"Yes, and you will be making the antidote," Dumbledore said, "Our goal here is to expedite some sort of potion to relieve the pain and cramping for Marie, if not a cure. Professor Flitwick will be researching the effects of the potion on Marie with Poppy, and Professor Sprout will be handling the obtaining of the necessary ingredients. When the time comes, you'll be handling the brewing, as well as collaborating with them on the composition. This needs to be resolved quickly, and cooperation will be essential. Don't you agree?"

Snape was pacing in front of the fireplace in the Headmaster's office, a vein pulsing in his temple as he glared around the room. Poppy Pomphrey and Minerva McGonagall sat on the couch, and Filius Flitwick stood next to Dumbledore's desk. Marie Delacour sat trembling between Poppy and Minerva, jumping a bit as the Medi-Witch gently put a comforting arm around her.

"Severus, sit down, for Merlin's sake!" Poppy said angrily. "You're upsetting my patient! Her condition is rather delicate right now."

Severus glared daggers at the Medi-Witch, but grudgingly sat down in the armchair farthest from the couch. He avoided looking at Marie entirely, folding his arms across his chest and stolidly ignoring her; Marie kept her eyes on the floor.

"Severus, no one likes this situation, I assure you." Dumbledore said gently. "As Poppy and Professor Flitwick have explained, the potion that was put into Miss Delacour's pumpkin juice did not have the expected results. The culprit, Miss Eugenia Hargrove has been punished, but the damage has been done, I fear."

"I wish it would have worked." Marie whispered bitterly, half to herself, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I could live with being ugly, but this-"

"There, there, dear." Minerva said gently, putting a comforting arm around her. "It'll all be right soon. We're working on reversing this; we'll put things right as soon as we can. It's not your fault."

"What do you found so far from examining the potion that was left in the vial," Dumbledore asked, "That was recovered from Miss Hargrove's room?"

Snape pursed his lips grimly, gathering his thoughts for a moment.

"Miss Hargrove," he said, just a hint of a sneer in his voice, "attempted to make the _Taeterrima_ potion, which, as we know by now, has the effect of rendering the person who consumes it hideously ugly for a period of approximately seven days…and botched it so completely I should fail her in Potions for it. The potion was contaminated with several ingredients not required for its making, not the least of which was kneazle dandruff, harpy toenail clippings, and a single human hair. She relied on a wand to control the temperature, as well as monitor the stirring, which is not recommended when making this potion. An utterly lazy and incompetent, half-arsed attempt to make a potion far above her capability as a potion maker."

Poppy frowned, shaking her head in disgust.

"Why would she do such a thing?" Minerva asked, looking at Professor Flitwick. "And to a member of her own house, to boot?"

"Jealousy." Flitwick sighed. "Miss Hargrove was angry that her boyfriend, William Evans, seemed to pay more attention to Miss Delacour than herself. She made the potion to try to teach Miss Delacour a lesson, by turning her into an ugly hag."

"So, why did it not work as intended?" Poppy asked, glancing at Snape. "She's still just as lovely as before she took the potion."

"I have no idea, Poppy." Severus said coldly. "As I said, Miss Hargrove made a complete botch of the potion, and administered it without heed for the effects. She showed extremely poor judgment and a complete disregard for the safety of a fellow student, behavior that borders on being criminal. That's why I recommended that she be expelled, based on the fact that _Taeterrima _is on the list of potions forbidden to students, both to make it and to possess it."

Craning his neck to look up at Snape, Flitwick hesitated for a moment, as if he were considering the wisdom of his next words.

"Severus," He said, hooking his thumb in his vest pocket near his wand, "Were you able to determine the origin of the human hair?"

"Of course." Snape said acidly. "It was…one of mine. Satisfied? It could have just as easily been one of yours, Filus."

"Severus, please." Dumbledore said sternly, with a brief glance at Marie. "We're trying to make the best of a bad situation, to resolve a problem. You don't need to be so difficult."

Snape merely glowered at the Headmaster for a moment, and then turned to glare at the Medi-witch.

"So what you are saying, Poppy," Severus hissed darkly, "is that I must allow a student, a sixteen year old girl, to sleep in my bed with me…because she has to touch me. I'm sure that the Board of Regents, as well as the Ministry, would be quite delighted to hear of this. Never mind what the student's parents might think of it. I may as well start packing to move to Siberia now, before the lynch mobs arrive at the gates of Hogwarts.

"Oh, and by the way, have you notified her parents as to what has happened?" He sneered, glaring at the Headmaster. "If I were her father, I would most certainly want to know about it. Especially if you were to force my daughter to sleep with a former Death Eater-"

"That will be quite enough, Severus!" Dumbledore boomed, glaring up at the Potions Master.

Marie cringed, with Poppy hugging her close to comfort her.

"That's what it amounts to, isn't it?" Snape said softly, his voice flat and dead. "I have no choice whatsoever in the matter."

Poppy hesitated for a moment, glancing at Dumbledore, who was watching Severus closely.

"Yes, Severus." She frowned, looking at Snape. "She needs some contact, um…skin on skin with you, to have any relief. It appears that that may be the only option for her, at least until we can counteract the potion in some way."

"Can't we just let it wear off?" Minerva asked.

"No." Poppy replied. "It…for some reason, the effects do not seem to be diminishing, but rather, intensifying with each day. This potion, the effects are not like a typical potion at all. It's as if-"

"As if it has altered her permanently in some way." Severus said sourly. "Am I correct, Poppy?"

"Yes. It's almost like a curse."

"So, she must touch me, for at least four to six hours, her skin," He paused to grimace, "touching mine, every twenty-four hours."

"Yes. I already explained that to you, Severus." Poppy said irritably, anger flashing in her eyes. "You were there for our…tests. You saw how lack of contact affected her; she does alright for twelve to sixteen hours, but then her symptoms become unbearable. You couldn't possibly wish that on your worst enemy, let alone a student!"

Marie shivered slightly, under the wool blanket that was wrapped around her, her eyes downcast.

Snape gave Dumbledore a sullen look, slouching in his chair a bit, and then looked directly at Marie.

"I suppose," He said, addressing her directly, "this gives you a good example of why I don't allow the use of wands in my classroom."

She refused to meet his gaze, closing her eyes and biting her lip till she tasted blood.

"Well, this is decided, then." The Headmaster sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Miss Delacour, you will start tonight. I will write you a hall pass that will allow you in the dungeons after hours. Filius, do whatever is necessary to facilitate it, and do be discreet about it. We can't afford for this to become known outside this room, let alone the school."

Dismissed, they all began to shuffle toward the door.

"Severus?" Headmaster Dumbledore said quietly, causing Snape to frown sullenly as he turned to face the Headmaster. "I'd like to have a word with you in private."

ooOoo

"Good evening." He said blandly, standing in the doorway, already dressed for bed, with his threadbare green wool robe on over sensible black silk pajamas. He didn't seem terribly inclined to move so she could enter his quarter, forcing her to nervously stand in the darkened Potions classroom.

"Good evening, Professor." Marie said nervously, clutching her overnight bag to her chest. "Um…may I come in, please?"

Snape sighed, moving out of the open doorway so she could come into his private quarters. He went to his armchair and sat down, waving her toward the couch.

"By tomorrow afternoon," He said wearily, "the floo in my bedroom will be connected to the floo in your bedroom. The Headmaster thought it will be less likely that someone would notice you coming and going that way. You will need to leave in the mornings in plenty of time to return to your dormitory…or bring clothing to wear for the next day."

"Yes, sir." She nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Snape frowned at her, his jaw working.

"I will be sleeping on the side of the bed nearest the fireplace, in case anyone floos me in the middle of the night. If you hear the floo activate, you will hide under the covers behind me, and you will not make a sound. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"You are allowed to…" He grimaced, as if the very idea of it was repulsive, "…touch me as you need to, but only for the amount of time necessary to alleviate your discomfort. I sleep poorly enough these days, and I don't need someone groping me constantly at night."

This was more than she could bear.

"Sir, I didn't do this on purpose!" She said, anger rising in her. "You're not being fair! I was the victim of a vicious prank, yet you act like I wanted this to happen! I can't help it that…touching you seems to be the only way that I can relieve my pain! You're being completely unreasonable!"

Suddenly he had crossed the room, looming over her, the force of his presence causing her to stumble backward. For a moment, she thought he might strike her, and she involuntarily flinched. He towered over her, his eyes flashing with anger and some other emotion that she couldn't quite determine. She felt her back hit the stone wall behind her as she backed away from him, giving a tiny squeak of terror. He glared deeply into her widened blue eyes, his jaw set grimly.

"In case you never noticed, Miss Delacour." He hissed, his nose nearly touching hers, "Life…isn't…fair. The reckless actions of one of your housemates has brought this farce upon us. You don't want to be here, and I certainly do not want you here. But this is how things are, for now, and I would appreciate you not whinging about it!"

Turning away, he crossed the room to the liquor cabinet and retrieved a bottle of firewhiskey, along with a glass. She leaned weakly against the wall, trembling, watching as he poured two fingers of the amber liquor and downed it.

"It wasn't my fault." She whispered softly, knees shaky, her voice nearly inaudible. "I didn't do anything to deserve this."

"Neither did I, Miss Delacour." Snape said, rubbing his eyes wearily. "I do not know why, but we are both victims of that thrice-cursed abomination of a potion that your housemate slipped you. I assure you that I am spending every spare minute that I have researching a cure with Professors Flitwick and Sprout, as well as the Headmaster and Poppy."

"I'm…I'm sorry that I lost my temper, Sir."

"Never mind that." He said, waving a hand in dismissal. "Now, we do need to have some ground rules."

"I…" She swallowed nervously. "Um, yes, Sir."

"First, I have official duties both at the school and off the grounds that demand my undivided attention. They have priority over your…affliction. Should I not be available to you, you will have to wait until my return. You are not allowed to be in my quarters if I am not present."

"Yes, Sir."

"Second, you are not to ask any questions about what I am doing. I am acting on the orders of the Headmaster, and that is all you need to know."

"Yes, Sir."

"Third, you will NOT touch me anywhere below the waist, ever. I trust you are not so naïve that I will have to explain why?"

"Yes, Sir. I mean, no, Sir!" Marie stammered, blushing scarlet and looking at her feet. "Um…I'm a virgin, Sir. I've never been with anyone, ever-"

"I really don't care one whit," Snape hissed, his eyes flashing, "about your sexual experience or activities. Whether you are a maiden or a whore, I do not care."

Marie's face was red as a beet, her fingernails cutting into her palms as she fairly trembled with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. For a moment, she considered hexing him, mentally running through the curses she was confident with to pick the nastiest one. She slipped her hand into the pocket of her robes, her hand coming to rest on her wand as she set her jaw in determination.

"I don't think it would be wise." Snape said softly, his black eyes hard and unfriendly. "The results of losing your temper and hexing me could be…unpredictable at best. I think that you would probably come out the worse for it."

She swallowed nervously, removing her hand from her pocket and putting her thoughts of hexing him aside. He took another sip of firewhiskey, eying her thoughtfully, his face unreadable. After a moment, he spoke again, setting the glass down on the table next to his armchair.

"Last, I will require you to take a wizarding oath to not divulge anything you may see or hear in your time spent in my quarters, especially regarding my duties outside the school. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir." If anything, Marie was blushing even more deeply, hardly able to look him in the eye by now.

"Take out your wand." He said, standing up with his wand in his hand, holding his other hand out.

She looked at his outstretched hand uneasily, then took out her wand and clasped his hand. Warmth and relief shot through her, causing her knees to go weak. Her eyes closed for a moment as she felt the pain leave her.

"Miss Delacour?" Snape said dryly.

"What?" She mumbled woozily, blinking, her eyes struggling to focus on her professor.

"Your wand."

"Oh! Right. My wand, got it." Marie raised her wand nervously. "Ready, Sir."

"Do you, Marie Delacour," He said, "solemnly swear not to divulge anything that you may see or hear concerning the duties assigned to Severus Snape outside this school?"

"I swear that I, Marie Delacour, solemnly swear that I will not divulge anything that I see or hear concerning the duties assigned to Severus Snape outside this school."

Magic swirled around them, marking the establishment of the wizarding oath, as was normal for the ritual.

Suddenly Snape jerked his hand away with a hiss of pain, dropping his wand to cradle his hand.

"Professor!" Marie said, alarmed. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." He snapped, turning away from her and retrieving his wand. "Go get ready for bed. The bedroom is down that hallway, the last door on the left. If you need to use the loo, it's at the end of the hallway."

Hesitating for just a second, she left the sitting room, retreating down the short hallway to the bedroom.

Only when he heard the door to the bedroom close did he open his hand and look.

Burned into his palm of his left hand was an intricate rune, one that he'd never seen. As he watched, the fresh burn healed rapidly, leaving only a faint, slivery scar, the rune still clear on his palm. He examined it at length, struggling to recall if he had seen one like it before, but to no avail.

_What next? _Severus sighed, rubbing his eyes in frustration. _What is this dammed rune, why is this happening now?_

_I don't need this now_, he thought, sitting down in his favorite armchair wearily. _How do I teach my classes, do Dumbledore's bidding, protect Harry? What if the Dark Lord returns? My life will be worth nothing; I will be a mere pawn in the game, manipulated by both sides. And…now, it seems, I must allow a teenage girl to TOUCH me at night so she can live another day without agonizing pain. I think I may go mad, I'm sure of it._

_What did I do to deserve this? _

_Why me? Do the gods despise me that much?_

_Life isn't fair, indeed,_ he thought bitterly. _Who would know that better than I? After all, it's a lesson that has been driven home, over and over, all of my wretched life._

"Professor?" Marie said softly, holding her terry bathrobe tightly closed around her neck. "Um…are you coming to…to bed?"

Snape sighed, and then nodded, following the petite young woman to his bedroom.

_It would seem that the gods do despise me_, he thought grimly, feeling as if he were being led to the gallows.

ooOoo

They settled into a routine, of sorts. Every evening about eight, the flames in his bedroom fireplace would turn green and Marie would step out of them, brushing ash from her robes. With a nervous nod to Severus, who usually was lying propped up in his bed reading, she would go to the bathroom to change into her nightclothes. Curious housemates she discouraged by an artfully concocted tale of having to spend extra time studying at the library, though a few subtle memory charms were applied by Professor Flitwick to overly inquisitive fellow students, when necessary.

Severus spent many evenings between dinner and her arrival leafing through ancient reference books and scrolls, searching for anything that bore the slightest resemblance to the rune on his left palm. It was a curious thing that since the return of the Dark Lord, at times it seemed to act to block or at least lessen the pain of being summoned to some degree. Its benefits tended to be somewhat unreliable and capricious, however; it was maddening that he could not find out what the rune symbolized, or what possible effects it might have. Attempts to remove it had caused him so much discomfort he had abandoned that idea completely. Frustrated, Severus had taken the precaution of applying a glamour to his hand to conceal it; the last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself, and a rune that he couldn't explain could make things difficult indeed for him.

Marie devoted most of her time between her arrival and bedtime to her studies, spreading her textbooks and parchment out on a small desk that he conjured for her to use. Silently she worked, the only noise in the room being the crackle of the fire, the scratching of her quill on her parchments, and the turning of pages as Severus read in his armchair. Interaction between them was generally polite and distant, with Snape not speaking much at all to her, except to answer the occasional question from her related to her homework. This he did politely and without the usual snide sarcasm she had come to associate with him; it surprised her that he actually was quite willing to help her outside the classroom environment. Short answers to her questions eventually turned into full-blown discussions on a variety of topics beyond her studies; within a few weeks she had begun to wonder if there was anything he didn't know something about, and one night even was brave enough to ask him that question.

"I'm pretty sure that I don't know everything, Miss Delacour." He had replied, a tiny smirk on his lips. "That's why I read so much. One can always learn something."

Gradually, her fear of him abated, probably due to the amount of time they spent together, platonic as it seemed to be. Marie would come to bed, sliding between the covers on 'her side', as she had come to think of it-the thought of it amused her somewhat for a while, until the novelty wore off-and then Severus would put out the candle, plunging his bedroom into darkness. She gradually got brave enough to put her hand under his pajama top, the better to touch his skin; while he grudgingly allowed this more intimate contact, he never touched her.

One night toward the end of April, she felt more restless than usual, tossing and turning in the bed. She wasn't wearing her nightgown, but tonight was wearing a t-shirt and shorts instead. Constantly she would reach out to touch him, as if to reassure herself that he was still there. He gritted his teeth, assuring himself that once she got comfortable, she would be able to sleep…and then, so would he. Finally, it got to be too much for Snape.

"Would you be still?" He said irritably, turning to glower at her in the dark bedroom.

"I'm sorry." Marie said nervously, scooting a bit farther away from him. "I'm…I guess I'm just restless, Sir. I'll be still now, I promise. Sorry."

With a muttered oath, he plumped his pillow and rolled onto his side, facing away from her. Silence pressed in on her like a heavy blanket, stifling her. She closed her eyes, but still felt restless.

"Um, Sir?"

"What?" He sighed.

"Why are you so angry?" Marie asked nervously.

"That is none of your business."

She lay there in bed next to him, shivering, biting her lip. When the first soft whimper finally managed to escape her tightly closed lips, Snape sat up in bed with a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"For the love of Merlin! I-are you hurting?" He asked irritably.

"No." Marie whispered. "I'm fine, Sir, really I am."

He rummaged around in the bed, locating an extra pillow and stuffing it between them as a partial barrier.

"Raise your head up a bit." He said grumpily as he rolled over to face her. "You are a terrible liar, Miss Delacour. As transparent as a pane of glass."

Despite her protests, he slid his arm under her head to act as a pillow, carefully putting his other arm around her, his hand sliding under her t-shirt and coming to rest almost exactly on her navel. Marie gasped, surprised at the warmth that suddenly seemed to spread through her abdomen. Nervously, she lay back down, resting her head on his upper arm.

"This means nothing," Snape grumbled softly in her ear, "more than me trying to get you to sleep, so I can sleep. Between teaching classes, working on that dammed antidote for your…affliction, and…what I have to do for the Headmaster, I'm bloody well exhausted. Now, please, try to sleep."

Marie teetered on the verge of over-stimulation, lying there wrapped in his strong arms, his slender fingers splayed across her tummy, the soft rustle of his breath on her neck. She closed her eyes with a sigh as she tried to relax, and then realized something.

_I don't hurt anymore_, she thought, her body relaxing into his, unconsciously reaching up to take hold of his hand. _There's no…no pain at all. Just warmth._

"Um…Professor Snape?" She whispered nervously.

"What?" He sighed, trying to keep the annoyance from his voice.

"Thank you, Sir."

"You're welcome. Now, please, go to sleep."

"Yes, sir. Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, Miss Delacour."

_I do wish she would stop running her thumb across that scar on my palm_, he thought. _ I've searched through every book on runes at Hogwarts, including those in the restricted section…and found nothing._

_This is maddening._

ooOoo

The second week of May, when she went to his room, he wasn't there. She waited until nearly midnight, anxiously biting her nails and pacing the floor. Finally, she flooed Headmaster Dumbledore from the bedroom fireplace.

"Yes, how did it go, Severus?" The Headmaster said, and then blinked in surprise. "Oh. It's you, my dear. Um, is Professor Snape there?"

"No, Sir, he isn't." Marie said nervously. "I'm worried. He's always here. Where is he?"

Dumbledore pondered her question for a few moments, and then gave a sigh of resignation.

"Step aside, my dear. I'm coming through." He said, shrugging on his robe.

After a few minutes, he stepped out of the fireplace into Snape's bedroom, brushing the ash off himself. Conjuring a couple of low stools, he waved his hand, directing Marie to sit down.

"Just a moment, if you don't mind." Dumbledore said, taking some floo powder and tossing it into the fireplace. "Hospital Wing."

Something about the way he said it made Marie's stomach give a funny lurch, and a wave of nausea passed through her.

"Yes, Headmaster?" Poppy's face said from the flames. "What is…oh, dear. Is it Severus?"

"I hope not, Poppy, but I thought you might want to be prepared. Miss Delacour is with me, by the way. She…came down here to spend her time with Professor Snape, and he's not back yet. I want you to come and wait with her, while I…go look for Severus."

"Right away, Headmaster." Poppy said grimly. "Allow me to fetch a few things, and I'll be right down."

The Medi-witch's face vanished, and the flames turned their normal orange and yellow again. Dumbledore went to the other stool, next to Marie, and sat down wearily.

"What I am going to tell you, my dear, is a closely held secret." He said softly, measuring his words carefully. "Yet I feel that due to your rather unique situation, you would not do anything to endanger Professor Snape."

"Of course not, Headmaster!" Marie said, shaking her head. "I never really liked him that much, but he is a good professor, and…he has been very kind to me lately. Concerning…my problem."

"That's good to hear. I feared that he might be…less than helpful to you. I'm sure that you have noticed that he can be a bit moody?"

"That's for sure!" Marie laughed out loud, and then clapped her hands to her mouth, horrified by her outburst.

Dumbledore smiled genially, and then chuckled.

"It's alright, dear." He said gently. "A good sense of humor is necessary in these dark days."

"Are you…" Marie swallowed nervously. "Are you talking about You-know-who, sir?"

"Indeed I am, my dear. And his name is Voldemort. There's no need to be afraid of him."

"Easier said than done, sir." She said, and then her face clouded. "You said you needed to talk to me. Is it about Professor Snape? Where is he?"

The floo activated, the flames turning green in the fireplace, and Poppy stepped through with a bag.

"Hello, Miss Delacour." She said, nodding to Dumbledore. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes, it's not too bad." Marie said, her anxiety growing by the minute. "Headmaster, you were saying-"

"Ah, yes." Dumbledore sighed. "Miss Delacour, Professor Snape has accepted a rather dangerous assignment from me. While you have been coming to his quarters at night for him to help you with your problem…tonight, Poppy and I may need your help. In the past, while on other assignments of this…nature, he has been injured, sometimes severely. Pray that it is not so tonight. Poppy, I'm headed to the usual spot he comes back to. I will bring him to the Hospital wing."

With a sad smile and a nod to Poppy, Dumbledore vanished in a swirl of smoke. Marie stood up, nearly knocking her stool over.

"He just apparated!" She gasped, eyes wide. "From inside the castle-"

"He did, indeed." Poppy smiled. "Remember, he is the Headmaster, and allowed to do so, dear. Now, come with me. We need to go to the Hospital Wing…and get ready."

As she followed Poppy through the floo, Marie couldn't shake the feeling that this would be a very long night.

ooOoo

Stepping out of the floo into the Hospital Wing, Marie nervously followed Poppy as the Medi-witch rapidly walked down the hallway, obviously having done all of this before. The young witch only hesitated when they came to a door marked 'Restricted Area-No Admittance to Students', eyeing the sign uneasily. Poppy held the door open for her with a touch of irritation.

"Come along, dear." The Medi-witch said crisply. "We may not have much time to get ready, and I have a feeling that I'll need some help. How well did you do with your healing charms?"

"Um…pretty well, I guess." Marie replied, swallowing nervously. "I wasn't the best student, but I did well. I can't say that I've much opportunity to practice since my class."

"Well, young lady," The Medi-witch said grimly, "I'm sure you'll have a opportunity to practice tonight."

Leading Marie to a room with a single hospital bed, Poppy began to rapidly _accio_ several items, catching them and placing them on a tray on the bedside table. As she watched, Marie's eyes grew wide. Pain-relieving potion, essence of dittany, bandages (lots of those), and a whole host of potions and materials that she'd never even heard of or even read about covered the tray, enough for a host of patients.

"This should be enough, I hope." Poppy sighed, pulling out an old pocket watch and glancing at it, nodding toward the fireplace. "Good timing, too. They should be here any minute now."

"Um, Madam Pomphrey…" Marie asked nervously eyeing a tray of sterile needles and sutures, "Does this sort of thing happen often?"

"First off, my dear, please call me Poppy, since we're going to be working together tonight."

"Yes, ma'am-I mean, yes, Poppy."

"That's better." The Medi-witch nodded. "How much has Headmaster Dumbledore told you about what Professor Snape does around here for him?"

"Not much, really. He was going to tell me something, then you-well, you came out of the floo-"

"Ah, so I interrupted him at the moment he was going to tell you."

"Pretty much, I guess."

"Professor Snape is doing some rather dangerous…covert work for the Headmaster, dangerous because many of the people he is dealing with are with the Dark Lord. He-well, you'll see. Here they come now."

With a puff of swirling smoke, Headmaster Dumbledore appeared, his hand on an unconscious Professor Snape, who floated next to him in mid-air. The Headmaster frowned at Poppy.

"Poppy, is this wise, to have Miss Delacour here?" He asked gently, glancing at Marie, who was transfixed, a look of horror on her face.

"She needs to touch him, Albus." Poppy said calmly, walking over to begin her examination of Snape. "We're killing two birds with one stone. Besides, you know how this kind of thing is. Odds are good I could use some help, and the girl has had her healer training, and did well in her class."

_That's not what I said! _Marie thought, meaning to speak it aloud, but the sight before her prevented it.

She couldn't tear her gaze away from him. He floated before her, his face deathly pale, eyes closed. Numerous cuts covered his face and hands, with the blood that dripped from his clothing silently confirming that there were more injuries that were hidden. Headmaster Dumbledore watched her carefully for a few seconds, and then spoke.

"_Sectumsempra_, a curse that Severus himself invented, while he was still a student here at Hogwarts. Generally not fatal, but it has been combined tonight with the _Cruciatus_ curse, the unforgivable that you should have learned about in your Defense Against the Dark Arts classes."

"It…it's horrible!" Marie whispered, still horrified. "Who would do such a thing?"

Dumbledore shook his head, floating Severus' body over to the hospital bed and gently placing the injured Potions Master on it.

"Voldemort, or one of his minions." He sighed, glancing at Poppy.

"For Merlin's sake, Albus!" Poppy snapped, glaring at him as she tended Severus' wounds. "Just tell her. She's old enough to understand, she's not a child."

"Miss Delacour," Dumbledore said with a weary sigh, "what I am going to tell you may endanger your life. Are you willing to accept that?"

Hesitantly, Marie nodded. She could still scarcely tear her eyes from Severus. He still lay unconscious on the bed, Poppy carefully cutting off his clothing with a set of shears, revealing deep cuts in his upper torso. The scraps shirt piled up on the floor, waiting to be removed by the house elves, fine white Egyptian cotton now stained reddish brown with drying blood.

_So much blood_, she thought with a shudder, unconsciously reaching down to take Severus' hand in her own. For a change, it felt cold to her touch, not the warmth that she was used to, and the feeling of relief was not nearly as strong.

_I feel so helpless_, she thought in despair. _I can't do anything to help him now._

"Miss Delacour?" Dumbledore said patiently, snapping her back to reality.

"Sir?"

"Are you alright, my dear?"

"Yes, Sir. Um…I was just…"

"Perhaps you'd better repeat yourself, Albus." Poppy said, pausing at Severus' left sleeve. "It would be a good idea, since I'm about to take his left sleeve off."

"Yes, I agree with that." The Headmaster sighed. "Miss Delacour, Professor Snape is a former Death Eater. He is presently…gathering information on the activities of the Dark Lord, information that we hope to use to defeat him. As you can see, this work can be…rather dangerous."

Marie winced as Poppy carefully pulled Severus' shirt sleeve down his arm, the blood causing the cloth to stick to his skin. As she did so, bit by bit, the brand of the Dark Mark came to light. Marie stared at it, horrified yet fascinated at the same time.

ooOoo

The next day, she fell asleep in her Transfiguration class. She'd managed to get a bit of fitful sleep, sitting in a chair next to Professor Snape's hospital bed, holding his hand, but it wasn't enough. She opened her eyes slowly to the realization that her head was on her Transfiguration textbook, and worse yet, Professor McGonagall was standing next to her desk. Marie sat up with a gasp of shock.

The classroom was empty, save for her and the professor, who was leaning against the desk.

"Professor, I'm sorry-" She blurted out, blushing deeply when her empty stomach growled.

"Never mind, dear." McGonagall said gently, patting her shoulder. "I know you must be exhausted. Poppy told me you were in the Hospital wing most all night, helping her."

"Yes, ma'am. It…it was pretty bad. I-" Abruptly she put her hand to her mouth, afraid she'd said too much.

"What was bad?" Minerva asked, frowning. "She told me that you were working on some healing charms with her, and you both lost track of the time. What happened?"

Marie froze, eyes widening, certain that she'd given it away.

"Ah, there you are, my dear girl." Headmaster Dumbledore said, walking into the classroom. "Not to worry, Professor McGonagall, Marie was helping Poppy with a special project I assigned to her. I need for you to come to my office for a moment, both of you."

"Of course, Headmaster." Marie nodded, collecting her books and putting them in her bag. "Has something happened?"

"No, not really." Dumbledore smiled gently. "It's just that your parents are here, to confer with me about your…situation."

The bookbag slid out of Marie's hands, hitting the floor with a muted clunk. Suddenly, her ravenous hunger had given way to nausea.

ooOoo

"I wish to remove my daughter from this school."

Dumbledore smiled indulgently at Marcel Delacour as he sat on the couch next to his wife, Helene. Marie's father was obviously agitated enough for both of them, however, Helene seemed quite relaxed, giving Marcel a tolerant smile. Marie sat in an armchair, her feet pulled up underneath her, wrapped in a wool blanket. Her nails were nearly bitten to the quick.

"I fear that would be quite unwise, Monsieur Delacour." The Headmaster said, picking up his dish of candy. "Lemon drop?"

"No thank you, Headmaster." Marcel snapped, his face quite red by now. "I do not care that the school year is not finished, we are taking Marie home today."

They had been at this for several hours, with dinner delivered by the house elves, the meal only serving to act as a break in the argument. Marie had eaten virtually nothing, despite the encouragement of both the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall. She wasn't certain that she would keep what little food she'd eaten down for long.

_It's been nearly 10 hours since I touched him_, Marie thought, realizing it wouldn't be long till she needed to again. _We need to end this quickly, or I'm going to floo to the Hospital wing by myself, even if they try to stop me._

"What's wrong with her?" Marcel asked, a note of concern in his voice as he looked over at his daughter. He rose from his chair and went over to where she was sitting near the fireplace. Marie was curled into a ball in the armchair, the wool blanket wrapped tightly around her as she shivered, her eyes on the container of floo powder on the mantel.

"Marie? Ma chérie?" He said, repeating himself several times until she looked at him. "Marie, are you alright? Are you cold?"

"I'm sorry about this, Papa." She whispered, tears welling in her eyes.

"I am not angry with you, ma bichette." He said softly, gently tucking a stray tendril of blonde hair behind her ear. "I am angry with the Headmaster, and this Professor Snape. They are abusing my darling-"

"That's not true, Papa." She said, pausing to grit her teeth as a particularly bad cramp came to her. "Ah…Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape have been helping me, everyone is trying to help me after this happened. So far, Professor Snape has been the only person who can help me."

"So where is Professor Snape?" Marie's mother frowned, glancing over at Dumbledore. "Should he not be here for this meeting?"

"Professor Snape is…indisposed." Dumbledore said, with a warning glance directed at Marie. "He was injured, working in his private potions lab yesterday evening, and is presently in the Hospital Wing."

"All the same, we are taking Marie with us, Headmaster Dumbledore." Marcel said, turning to look at the Headmaster defiantly. "We will take her to the best Healers, and we will find what is ailing her so she may be cured."

"Monsieur Delacour, I must advise against such a thing." Dumbledore said, folding his hands in front of him on his desk as he leaned forward.

"Nonsense. Helene, get our coats." Marie's father snapped, getting up from where he knelt next to his daughter. "We are leaving-"

He was interrupted by an ear-piercing shriek that came from his daughter as she fell to the floor by the fireplace, writhing in agony. Iridescent floo powder spilled from her hand, sparkling motes drifting upward as some of it contacted the flames.

"I feared this might happen." Dumbledore sighed, rising from his seat. Taking out his wand, he pointed it at Marie and murmured a few words in Latin while making a quite intricate motion with his wand. Instantly, she was quiet and still, tangled in a heap in the blanket on the rug, only an infrequent twitch showing her pain. With another wave of his wand, Marie rose until she floated about three feet above the floor, hovering as Dumbledore walked over to the fireplace to take a handful of floo powder.

"Minerva, would you kindly escort the Delacours to the Hospital Wing?" He said, rolling the greenish powder in his hand. "I will take Miss Delacour there myself and brief Poppy on her relapse."

"Of course, Headmaster." Minerva said, getting up from her chair and turning to Marie's parents, who were still in a state of shock. "This way, please."

ooOoo

_Muffled voices, seeping through the fog of unconsciousness._

"She's waking up."

_Poppy's voice, close by. She was in the Hospital Wing._

"About time. Marie, can you hear us?"

Slowly, Marie opened her eyes, with great effort. She was in the hospital wing, lying on a bed that had been pushed over next to the one where Professor Snape lay unconscious, with her fingers entwined in his. She looked around her, sitting up partly, to see her parents get up, where they had been sitting with Headmaster Dumbledore over by the door. Her mother came over to her, leaning across Professor Snape to brush her daughter's unruly blonde hair from her eyes.

"Ma chérie, are you feeling better?" She said, her eyes dark with concern as she tucked Marie's hair behind her ear.

"Oui, Mama." Marie whispered hoarsely, and then coughed, clearing her throat. "Can I have some water? I am so thirsty."

"Of course, darling." Her mother conjured a glass and filled it with her wand, then held it to her mouth.

Marie drank carefully, pausing only once.

"How do you feel?" Helene asked softly, _vanishing_ the glass.

"Exhausted, Mama." Marie sighed wearily, "I can hardly keep my eyes open."

"Rest, then."

Nodding sleepily, Marie laid back down with a yawn, closing her eyes. Within minutes, she was fast asleep, still clutching Severus' hand.

"As you can see," Headmaster Dumbledore said quietly, "physical contact with Professor Snape seems to be the only thing that can alleviate her symptoms. It seems that it has something to do with the accidental contamination of the potion with a hair from Professor Snape, though we're at a loss so far to say why."

"So, this potion that the girl slipped to Marie," Marcel said, a touch of anger in his voice, "it was intended to turn her into an ugly hag?"

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded. "Due to the contamination, and other faults with the making of the potion, it did not have the desired effect. Instead, we have this…chills, cramping pain, sleepwalking-and the effects do not seem to be wearing off. If anything, she seems to be getting worse."

"I know of this Snape quite well," Marie's father scowled. "He is very well known to us in the Ministry as a Death Eater-"

"Former Death Eater, Monsieur Delacour." Dumbledore corrected him.

"He still bears the Dark Mark, Headmaster. So this man, this 'former' follower of the Dark Lord, my daughter has to touch him in order to not suffer? This is outrageous! We must find a cure immediately!"

"I fear, Monsieur, that it will not be that easy."

"Professor Snape is not the only potions master, you know! We will make arrangements-"

"Marcel." Helene said firmly, looking sharply at her husband. "Stop it. Right now."

Marcel began to protest, but something to his wife's eyes caused him to stop.

"You know what my grandmother was." Helene said softly, sitting on the bed next to Marie, one hand resting on her daughter protectively. "We must be cautious here. If the potion did not have the desired effect, it could have been due to Marie having Veela blood. While most potions are quite safe, there are some that might not be, and if the potion was made as poorly as you say, it could be very bad for her."

"Madame Delacour," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes grave, "We are doing everything we possibly can to help your daughter."

ooOoo

When she opened her eyes again, he was watching her.

"I told you not to come." He whispered hoarsely, his voice nearly inaudible.

"I couldn't help it." Marie said softly, tears springing to her eyes. "I went to your room, you were not there-"

"And I told you not to stay if I wasn't there."

He said it with no anger in his voice, as if he were not scolding her.

"I'm glad that you are not hurt too badly." She said, before she could stop herself, clapping one hand to her mouth, eyes widening, expecting him to become angry with her.

Instead he just sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.

"No one is more glad of that than I, Miss Delacour." Severus said weakly. "I take it that we are in the Hospital Wing?"

"Yes, Sir." She nodded.

"And Poppy arranged it so you could sleep close enough to me to touch me, to alleviate your pain."

"Yes, Sir. Um, Sir?"

"Yes?"

"My parents were here yesterday." She said uneasily, biting her lip. "They…they want to take me out of school, to take me back to London. The Headmaster, I think he talked them out of it, but-"

"Wonderful." He sighed, shifting in his bed with a grimace of pain. "I told the Headmaster this was a bad idea."

"My mother told him they would not interfere, Sir." Marie said softly. "Papa didn't like it, but Mama told him that we would have to stay together, at least until you find a cure."

He frowned, deeply, then abruptly tried to sit up, only to flop back down on the bed with a hiss of pain.

"Professor Snape!" Marie cried, rising from her bed to lean over him. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." He said, gritting his teeth as he struggled to rise. "I need to get to my lab, to work on that cure for you. I'm wasting time lying up here in a hospital bed."

By now, she was hovering over him, her hands on his shoulders.

"No, Sir." She said, setting her jaw stubbornly. "You're not getting up. You're hurt."

"I beg your pardon?" He said, incredulous. "Did you, a student, just tell me, 'no'?"

"I did." Marie said, trembling slightly. She pushed her nervousness aside. "If you try to get up, I'll ring the call bell for Poppy. I mean it."

Slowly, a crooked smile spread across Professor Snape's face. Marie was so surprised that she took her hands off his shoulders for a moment. With a smirk, he sat up, making it nearly halfway.

"Oh, no, you don't." She snapped, regaining her composure. Putting her hands back on his shoulders, she moved over to his bed so she could better prevent him from getting up. Panting with the effort, she glared down at him.

"You're too badly hurt to get up just yet." Marie scolded him, her face mere inches from his. "I was here when you got back…from whatever it was that you were up to. I helped Poppy patch you up, and I'm not about to allow you to get up before you heal. You lost a lot of blood-"

"You were here when I returned?" He sputtered, his face reddening with fury. "I told you not to-"

"I didn't have much choice." She shot back, her anger for once overriding her fear of him. "Poppy dragged me up here to the Hospital Wing to help her. Now, I will not have you tearing open all of the cuts that I had to spend nearly an hour sewing up while Poppy tended your deeper lying injuries! Is that clear?"

For a long moment, they glared at each other, neither willing to budge. Bright blue eyes staring down dark brown ones, neither willing to give an inch.

Finally, Severus broke the stalemate.

"Miss Delacour."

"Yes, Sir?"

"You are a pain."

"Thank you, Sir."

"What I mean is, you are hurting me." He sighed, closing his eyes. "Also, I badly need to piss, if you don't mind. I'd really like it better if you were not sitting on my bladder, as pleasant as it might be otherwise."

Marie slowly blushed crimson, removing her hands from his shoulders and getting off of him. Reaching over to her bed, she rang the call bell.

After a few minutes, Poppy came bustling in.

"Is everything alright, dear—" She blinked in surprise. "Oh! Severus, I see you're awake."

"Obviously." He sneered, drawing out every single syllable in the word. "Might it be possible for a gentleman in your fine establishment to somehow use the loo?"

"Of course, Severus." Poppy said, with a touch of sarcasm. "All you need to do is call a house elf. Merlin knows, you've been a patient here enough to know that."

ooOoo

April 15, 1995, approximately 3 a.m. ~

A half-second later, and it would have been entirely too late.

Snape had opened his eyes to find Marie crouched above him, nuzzling his neck passionately. As he became more awake, he realized that he was not dreaming of something warm and moist caressing his cock, and that the reality of the situation was that she nearly had him lined up to penetrate her. In a panic, he realized that she was just one hard push away from her deflowering. With a profane oath, he took hold of himself, pushing her off of him. With an indignant yelp, she rolled off of the bed, landing on the cold stone floor.

"Miss Delacour!" He snapped, struggling to pull his pajamas back up and cover himself. "Have you gone mad?!"

Lighting the candle on his bedside table, he got out of bed and went over to where she lay huddled on the floor. Her nightgown was still hiked up past her hips. Blushing, Severus kept his eyes up so he would not see, taking a blanket from the bed and covering the young witch.

"Now, see here, Miss Delacour-" He began, and then stopped.

She blinked slowly, as if she were having trouble focusing on him. Sitting up, she blushed, glancing around herself.

"Professor Snape?" She said hesitantly, her blue eyes wide, confusion on her face. "Why am I on the floor? Did I fall out of bed?"

Abruptly, her face began to turn quite red, her eyes getting even wider.

"Where did my panties go?" Marie gasped, yanking her nightgown down.

ooOoo

"This is puzzling." Headmaster Dumbledore said quietly. "I take it she was not successful?"

Severus Snape sat across from him slumped on the couch, a glass of firewhiskey in unsteady hands, his eyes firmly on the floor.

"No." Severus said quietly, shivering slightly as he took a sip of the fiery liquor. "Half a second later, and she would have been. I almost didn't wake in time to stop her."

"And when she…came to, she had no recollection of what had happened?"

"None whatsoever. She slept the rest of the night without incident, then got up, got ready for her classes, and left. She acted as if nothing had happened at all."

"If I may ask, where did you spend the rest of the night?"

"Next to the bed, in a chair that I conjured up." Severus snapped irritably. "Do you think I'd be foolish enough to be in the bed with her after that? Albus, I warned you that something like this might happen. The girl is one-quarter Veela, after all."

"So, you have been up all night."

"I was. I didn't dare go back to sleep."

"So, at some time during the night, she removed her panties and your pajamas, got you…um, ready, and attempted to have intercourse with you?"

"Yes." Severus snapped, his voice unsteady. "I've already told you that, and I don't really care to repeat myself. It's bad enough that it happened at all. Thus, I tender my resignation, Headmaster."

He'd cancelled his classes for the day after Marie left, and then headed straight to the Headmaster's office. At this point, he was on his second glass of firewhiskey, and Dumbledore seemed inclined to keep refilling his glass. The Headmaster didn't seem angry, but he didn't seem very happy about things, and his blue eyes were dark with concern. Dumbledore tapped a parchment on his desk with one finger, frowning.

"You know that I won't accept this." The Headmaster said, eyeing the younger wizard soberly as he drained his glass.

"I figured as much." Snape sighed, and then drained his glass.

Dumbledore took out his wand and refilled the glass with firewhiskey, then tossed the parchment up in the air, muttering '_incendio'_. The parchment burst into flames, falling onto the desk as ashes, which the Headmaster promptly _vanished_.

"The rune on your palm, have you managed to find anything on it yet?"

"No." Snape said, taking another sip of firewhiskey. "Nothing anywhere. I have been through every book related to runes in both my private library and the school library, as well as consulted with every expert in the field. I have yet to find any information on it. It's driving me mad, Albus."

"Take a personal day, Severus." Dumbledore said quietly. "Get some rest."

ooOoo

April 16, 1995, 9 a.m. ~

"You sent for me, Headmaster?" Snape said, stepping into the Headmaster's office.

"Yes, come in, Severus." Dumbledore said, rising from his desk. Snape walked in, glancing over toward the couch.

_Oh bloody hell_, thought Severus.

Helene Delacour sat there on the couch, eyeing him speculatively.

"Good morning, Professor Snape." She smiled, nodding to him politely.

"Good…morning, Madam Delacour." He replied, glancing nervously at the Headmaster. "This is quite…a surprise."

"Sit down here, Professor." Helene said, patting the couch next to her. "You poor man, you look absolutely exhausted."

Warily, Severus passed by her, choosing instead to sit in an armchair well out of reach. Helene frowned, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Severus, there is no need to be unfriendly." Dumbledore smiled. "Would you care for some firewhiskey?"

"Headmaster, are you aware of what…this witch is?" Snape hissed, eyeing Marie's mother nervously.

"One-half Veela, correct, Madam?" The Headmaster said, glancing at Helene, who nodded genially. "Rest assured, Severus, Madam Delacour is not actively using her…charms right now."

"I'm here to see if I can help," Helene said gently, "with my daughter's problem, Professor Snape."

"What's this all about, then?" Severus asked carefully.

"I came to see if I could help you with the rune you were researching." She smiled. "May I see it?"

He glanced at the Headmaster, who frowned at him, as if to say _get on with it._ With a sigh, Snape held his left hand out to Helene, palm up. She leaned over, examining it closely.

Abruptly she sat back up, her smile gone from her face, replaced by a grim expression as she glanced at the Headmaster.

"Professor…" She said quietly, looking hard at Snape, "Has Marie done anything…unusual lately?"

Snape nervously glanced at the Headmaster.

"I have told her nothing, Severus." Dumbledore said gently. "It is up to you what you wish to say."

"I…she awakened me this morning, around three." Severus said hesitantly, his eyes shifting from Madam Delacour to the Headmaster, then back again. "She…"

_I feel as if I'm about to cut my own throat_, he thought in despair, his face an impassive mask.

"Go on, Professor." Helene prompted gently.

Severus sighed.

"She was…in a state of need." He said, squirming uncomfortably under the level gaze of Helene's blue eyes. "I…awakened just in time to preserve…her chastity. Madam, I have tendered my resignation to the Headmaster. I most humbly apologize-"

"Never mind that." Helene said, waving her hand dismissively, impatiently leaning toward him. "Was there anything unusual about her behavior? Did she seem herself?"

"No…she…she actually seemed," Severus said softly, "to be in a trance of some kind. When she came out of it, she had no recollection of what had happened, or why. She was disoriented, as if she had just awakened."

Helene turned to the Headmaster, her expression grave.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, I need to speak with my daughter, in private." She said, pursing her lips in thought. "Immediately. Also, I will need to speak to Madam Pomphrey. Professor Snape, I will speak with you more on this later."

ooOoo

April 18, 1995, 11:30 p.m. London~

"This is madness."

"It must be done, Marcel." Helene Delacour said quietly, turning toward her husband in their bed. "I don't see any alternative."

"She is but sixteen years old!"

"She will be seventeen in a month."

"There is nothing we can do? Surely, we can remove this…curse."

"Marcel, do you remember my mother?" Helene said softly. "Do you remember what happened to her after my father was lost, taken in the First Wizarding War?"

He said nothing. Only his trembling belied how he felt; whether it was anger or grief, who could tell.

"She is bonded to him, Marcel." She said, sitting up in the bed to look down at him. "Her Veela blood has reacted with that…potion that awful girl gave to her, and now she has bonded with Professor Snape. Neither of them wants this, but they are bonded, until the bond is somehow broken…and only death can part them now."

"I don't like this, Helene." He sighed, swiping tears from his eyes angrily. "She is…our only child. I hate to see her with…with such a horrible man. He was a Death Eater, and for all we know, he might still be a Death Eater!"

"Death Eater or not," She said gently, cupping his face in her hands, "He is marked as hers. It is out of our hands now."

ooOoo

April 20, 1995, 8 a.m. ~

He'd been on his way to the dungeons to teach his eight o'clock Advanced Potions class, when Minerva stopped him, delivering a note that stated that he was needed in the Headmaster's office right away.

"I'll watch your class for you, Severus." Professor McGonagall said. "Albus said that it was urgent."

"My lesson plan is on my desk." He sighed irritably. "Invigoration Draught is the first potion they will be making today."

He turned and walked rapidly down the hallway toward the Headmasters' office, his black robes billowing out behind him.

Now, he sourly wished he'd ignored the summons, no matter what repercussions it might have had for him.

"You're mad." Snape snarled, pacing in front of the fireplace in the Headmaster's office.

"I wish that were true." Helene Delacour said softly as she sat on the couch watching him. Headmaster Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, paying little mind to the angry Potions Professor.

"What happens if I refuse?" Severus said defiantly, stopping to glower down at the witch.

"I…I honestly don't know." Helene said. "But I hope you consider things carefully. My daughter's life could depend on it."

"Albus, please!" He begged, turning to the Headmaster. "This kind of thing is completely inappropriate! I cannot in good conscience have…sexual relations with a student, no matter what the circumstances!"

"I understand how you feel, Severus," Dumbledore sighed, "But you heard Madam Delacour. The rune marks you as Marie's mate, according to Veela custom."

"It's a mistake, then." Snape snapped, glaring at Helene. "That thrice-dammed abomination of a potion has influenced her selection, and as I said, I cannot abide this. I refuse to do it."

"What?" Helene said, her eyes widening.

"I refuse to sleep with your daughter." Snape hissed. "I refuse to have sex with her, under any circumstances. Contrary to what some people believe about me, I do have some ethics that I strive to live by."

"Professor Snape, please reconsider! I-"

Helene's pleading was interrupted by a _pop_ as Winky, Severus' house elf, appeared in the middle of the room. Ignoring the other two people in the room, the house elf turned to her master.

"Master Snape, you must come to Slytherin girl's loo now!" The house elf shouted, "Miss Marie, she is in trouble!"

ooOoo

He was kneeling, holding her upright as he cleaned her face with a damp flannel. Four students lay sprawled on the floor unconscious; while a fifth Slytherin girl cowered by the sinks, her terrified eyes fixed on her head of house. Headmaster Dumbledore entered the room, followed by Madam Delacour and Poppy, shaking his head at the broken sink and the water covering the floor.

"What happened, Professor Snape?" The Headmaster asked, lifting his robes to keep them out of the water.

"It appears that Miss Delacour was ambushed," Severus hissed, shooting the girl by the sinks a glare, "By these five members of my house. They bound her, dragged her into the loo, and proceeded to torment her at length, smearing her with…muck and paint, and…teasing her. I subdued them."

Marie was trembling, clutching his arm, her eyes tightly closed as she sobbed into his chest. Poppy went to her, kneeling beside her to examine her for injuries.

"Miss Stewart, is this true?" Dumbledore said, looking sternly at the frightened Slytherin girl.

"I…I…" She stammered, looking fearfully at her Head of House.

"Answer the Headmaster, and truthfully, Miss Stewart." Snape growled, pinning her to the wall with his black eyes. "Tell him…everything, and your punishment might be a bit less…harsh."

"Yes, Sir." Miss Stewart nodded nervously. "We…we caught her in the dungeons, Headmaster, she…she was coming out of Professor Snape's quarters. Victoria Bannon said that she…shouldn't be down here. Emily Spinks cast _stupefy_ on her, then bound her, and then we…we…"

"Go on." Dumbledore prodded gently.

"Well, they woke her up and started teasing her, Sir." The girl said, glancing from Snape to the Headmaster. "I didn't do anything, Sir! I just kept watch-"

"You aided your housemates in an assault on another student." Snape sneered. "You should be expelled for this. Whether or not that happens depends on you."

Faintly, he heard Marie whisper something.

"What did you say?" Severus said gently.

"They saw me leaving your room." Marie whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. "They…they called me…a whore."

ooOoo

April 21, 1995, 7 a.m. ~

"Professor Snape?"

Wearily, he raised his head to look at Helene Delacour, who stood in the doorway. Severus was sitting next to Marie, with his head on his arms as she held his hand, and he had been fitfully dozing when her mother walked in. Marie had spent the night in one of the beds in the Hospital Wing, after Poppy had insisted on it, wanting to make sure she was going to be alright. Her injuries hadn't been that severe, but Marie had been quite traumatized by the assault, and thus quite reluctant to allow Severus out of her sight for even a moment.

"Yes?" He said, his voice devoid of emotion. He felt completely drained and badly wanted to have a bit more sleep, even if it was only a nap in his chair.

Helene walked over to the bed, conjuring a chair to sit down on facing him, sitting down with a sigh.

"Do you know of my father, Professor Snape?" She asked quietly, her blue eyes steady on his.

"Of course." Severus said, closing his eyes. "Henri Besson."

"What do you know of him?"

"Personally, not much." He said quietly. "I've read all of his books. He was…my inspiration to pursue a career as a potions master."

"So you know what happened to him."

"I…only know that he disappeared." Snape said, looking at her. "That he was lost when I was ten years old, before I even began school at Hogwarts."

"I last saw my father on October 15, 1971." Helene said softly, her eyes filling with tears. "He took my sister and I to school, kissed us goodbye, and I never saw him again."

"I'm sorry." He said gently.

"Thank you." She said, dabbing at her eyes with her hanky.

After a long, somewhat uncomfortable silence, she finally spoke again.

"I know that you are just as much a victim of that girl's attack on Marie as my daughter is."

He just nodded politely.

"You have been put in an uncomfortable situation." Helene went on. "I am sorry about that. But as her mother, I must point out…that while you are not my first choice of…mate for my daughter, I cannot question her judgment on this."

"Her judgment?" He scoffed. "If she chose a…mate, as you put it, she was under the influence of that potion, and surely Veela custom allows for such a thing to be nullified. Bonds made without free will can hardly be considered binding."

"Did you attempt to remove the rune?" She asked.

"Yes, and it hurt like Hades to try it." Snape hissed. "This dammed rune has been a pain ever since it appeared on my hand."

"Yet you have benefited from it, have you not?"

"I'm not sure about that." He replied, scowling. "It is rather capricious about its effects."

"But it does have some effect."

"Mostly undesirable. I want to have it removed, at once. If it were to get out of this school that I was bonded to a student, the board of regents, and most of the parents, would want my head on a spike on the gates of Hogwarts."

"Professor Snape," Helene said softly, "I respect your feelings on this matter. Because you are my daughter's teacher, you feel that you cannot…consummate this bonding. I respect you for that. But I beg you to reconsider, for her sake. Her magic, it has marked you as hers."

"I will find a cure for this, Madam Delacour." He replied curtly. "There will be no more discussion on this matter. I will not have sex with your daughter, no matter that she is of age, willing, or that we are bonded by some misguided Veela magic."

"I failed to finish my tale." She said, pursing her lips. "Do you know what happened to my mother, Professor Snape?"

"No."

"As I said, she also died." Helene said softly. She had to stop and collect herself before going on. "She suffered greatly. Within only six months, she had to be admitted to the Magical Injuries Ward at Roen Wizarding Hospital. She…"

Abruptly, Helene produced a hanky, using it to muffle her sobs somewhat as she cried for several minutes. Snape sat in stony silence, his eyes on the floor. Finally, wiping at her eyes and blowing her nose, she was able to go on.

"Sorry about that." She said softly. "It…it still pains me greatly to think about it, monsieur. It took years, but she…finally found peace. She fell ill shortly after Papa went missing…she just began to decline, wasting away. Apolline and I, we did what we could for her, but…it—"

Severus sat silently, watching her dab at her eyes once more. After a brief struggle to compose herself, Helene continued.

"Promise me, Professor Snape," She whispered urgently, seizing his hand, "Promise me that you will be careful. I know that the Dark Lord has returned. If you were to die…I fear for my daughter."

"I promise I will be careful." Snape nodded, concealing the whirlwind of conflicting emotions within him behind a solid wall of occlumency.

ooOoo

He sat silently in the hospital room, staring out the window at the raindrops trickling down the glass panes, long after Madam Delacour had left.

_So it seems, I must consummate this bonding._

_To do so may give her some form of more permanent relief._

_However, to do so will put her in mortal danger from the Dark Lord, as well as potentially give him a powerful lever to control me with, should he learn of her relationship to me._

_To do so will violate whatever shred of decency and ethics I may have left to cling to._

_This whole farce is a violation of her free will and mine, a twisted and sick warping of ancient Veela ritual and custom. I cannot do this._

_I cannot in good conscience expose her to such danger, to take her as mine. _

_She deserves to have a better man than me, to have a better life than I can offer her._

_If I do it, what happens to her when I die? I've done the Arithmancy, worked the odds, and there is no outcome that includes the possibility of my survival._

_How long might she live?_

_So many question, so few answers._

_According to Madame Delacour, the bonding in all likelihood happened when I made her swear the wizarding oath to keep my secrets. I should have known better._

_But how could I have known? That dammed potion threw everything out of kilter. _

_Albus didn't even expel the little twit that did it, even though she had to endure detention with Filch for most of the rest of the school year._

He slumped forward in his chair, cradling his head in his hands with a sigh of exhaustion, his nerves stressed to the breaking point.

_I'm so tired of being manipulated by everyone._

With a sigh, he sat back in his chair, rubbing his eyes wearily.

"Professor Snape?"

Taking his hand down, he looked over at the bed. Marie was awake.

"How do you feel?" He asked.

"Tired, but not all that bad." She said softly, her eyes dark with concern. "You look exhausted, Sir."

Unable to think of anything to say, he simply nodded.

"Thank you for…rescuing me, Sir." She said, taking hold of his hand yet again.

ooOoo

May 2, 1995~

She was sitting on the couch, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. Watching him out of the corner of her eye as she pretended to read her Advanced Transfiguration textbook. Rain pattered gently on the windowpanes as the fire crackled and popped in the fireplace, while across the room the grandfather clock steadily marked time with its swinging pendulum. He'd only moved once all evening, to rewind and check the setting on the grandfather clock. Once he'd closed the door on the front of the clock, carrying a thick and dusty book, he settled into his armchair after picking up a bottle of firewhiskey and a glass.

"To bed, Miss Delacour." He said, frowning over at her. "You have school tomorrow."

"Are you coming with me?" She asked, frowning slightly. "You have to teach."

"Not yet."

"Will you sleep in the bed with me?"

"No." He said, looking down at the floor. "I will sit next to the bed…so you may hold my hand to have your…contact, but I will not get into the bed with you."

She sighed, marking her place and walking off to the bedroom, quietly fuming under her breath. Taking her time getting ready for bed, she slid between the green flannel sheets and closed her eyes, alone.

She didn't think she could sleep, but found herself awakened by something. When she tried to light the candle by the bedside, she could not; it had burned out while she waited for Severus to come to bed. Lighting the tip of her wand, she rummaged around in his bedside table for another candle and put it in the holder, then lit it. By his old Muggle alarm clock, it was only half past midnight.

Puzzled, she went down the short hallway to the sitting room. He was sitting in his armchair, fast asleep, his book cradled in his hands. As she approached him, his face contorted as if in agony, and he let out a low moan as a shudder passed through his body.

_That's enough of this_, Marie thought to herself, steeling herself and approaching him. She knelt in front of him, placing her hands gently on his.

"Professor Snape." She said, gently, but firmly. "Wake up, Sir."

He jumped, his eyes snapping open and looking wildly around the room before settling on her. He was gasping for breath as if he'd just run several miles, trembling under her hands.

"Miss Delacour." He whispered hoarsely. "You should be in bed."

"So should you, Sir." Marie said, looking up at him. "Not in a chair, but in the bed with me. Please, Sir. I know that you don't trust me, but you need to sleep."

Trembling, he shook his head.

Marie frowned, her blue eyes darkening. She reached down, taking his hand, and tugged gently.

"Come on." She said. After a few more tugs, Severus got up, dropping the book on the seat of his armchair. Reluctantly, he followed her to the bedroom.

He offered only token resistance as she took his robes off, even allowing her to take his white shirt off, but stopping her when she put her hand on the waistband of his trousers.

"Don't." He rasped. "Please don't."

"Then you dress yourself for bed." Marie said, taking her hand away. "But you need to change into proper pajamas, not sleep in your clothing."

He picked up his pajamas, and shuffled off to the bathroom. After a few minutes, he returned to find her sitting on the bed waiting on him.

"I…I could transfigure a cot…" He began, his voice wavering slightly.

"No, you won't." Marie said, patting the bed on his side. "Get into bed."

He shook his head again, though he didn't move away. She got up, moving around to him, gently taking his arm to pull him toward the bed.

"Professor, please come to bed." She pleaded. "You're exhausted. You need to sleep."

"No." He whispered, his voice weak and shaky as he put a hand on her shoulder in a feeble attempt to ward her off. Leading him to the bed, she gently turned him around and pushed him back, causing him to sit down on the bed.

"We can't do this." Severus said, looking up at her, his eyes pleading with her. "It's wrong. It wasn't your free choice."

"It wasn't, that is true." She nodded. "But it is done. According to my mother, we have no choice now."

"No." He whispered, hanging his head, his cheeks burning with shame.

"Yes." Marie said gently, pulling his head down to her bosom, stroking his hair as if he were a frightened child, caught in the grip of a nightmare.

"No." Severus whispered faintly. "Miss Delacour…"

"My name is Marie." She whispered, lowering her head to place a gentle kiss on the top of his head, lingering for a moment to drink the smell of him in.

_Cedar, mint, bay rum, and wool_, she mused, closing her eyes in pleasure.

"Miss…"

"Marie, Professor." She said, a bit more firmly. "Call me Marie."

"Miss Delacour…" Severus whispered, trembling as his eyes filled with tears. "…things like this…they aren't supposed to happen. It's wrong. You are far too young…"

"Shush, Professor." Marie said, brushing his hair from his eyes gently. "Marie. My name is Marie."

"M-marie…" He said, looking up at her, tears spilling down his cheeks. "Do not call me Professor. I…no longer deserve that."

"Severus." She said softly, and then lowered her lips to his.

ooOoo

She awoke that morning with his head on her shoulder, her arms around him as he slept, his breath tickling her slightly.

_I'm not a virgin now_, she thought, shifting her legs slightly and wincing. _The bond is complete._

_So what now?_

She lay there in the bed for a long time, listening to the sounds of the castle, to his steady breathing as he lay close to her in the bed, just savoring the warmth of his skin against hers. Severus shifted slightly in his sleep, his hand curling around her waist, pulling himself closer to her. For a moment, he frowned, and then relaxed as she gently stroked his hair.

_He's so starved for affection,_ she sighed, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. _I've never known someone like this, who flinches at the slightest physical contact. He's so shy, so bitter, so withdrawn…so lonely._

_And now, we are bonded. According to what Mama told me, the bond cannot be broken. That there are things about it long forgotten, unknown even to Veela today, which are not fully understood._

_I'm afraid now, for him._

_Odd that now I know what he's doing; I feel no fear for myself, only for him._

_He was my professor; how surreal is this, that he is now my lover?_

_I wish I could take this burden away from him._

_I want to run away with him, far away, where the Dark Lord would never find us._

_Silly._

_He will stand and fight. He'll try to keep me safe. He's like that._

_He may die._

_I…will end up like grandmother._

_I have to find a way to keep him alive._

_He must live._

_He must._

_I don't think I could bear it if he dies._

As she lay there watching his face, slowly, his eyes fluttered open, gradually focusing on her.

"Good morning." She said gently.

"Good…good morning." Severus said hesitantly, looking as if he wanted to flee.

"Did you sleep well?" Marie asked him, giving him a hug. "I slept very well."

"I…yes, I slept well." He replied.

ooOoo

"So it is done." Not a question, but a statement.

"Yes." Severus said wearily, slumped in an armchair in the Headmaster's office.

"You look tired, my boy." Dumbledore said gently, waving to the house elf to bring some coffee.

Snape nodded, rubbing his eyes.

"How do you feel?"

"As if I have smashed a Ming vase, Albus." Snape snapped irritably, glaring at him. "I robbed her of her innocence, ruined her life…and for what? So she might have a few more days without pain? You know as well as I do, Albus, how likely it is that I will survive the coming war. What will happen to her?"

"You may yet live, Severus."

"The odds are heavily against it, Headmaster."

The silence lay heavily between them for several minutes. The double agent, stressed to the limit on one side; his handler on the other, both contemplating what lay ahead for both of them.

"What do you propose to do," Albus finally said, looking at him over his spectacles, "regarding your 'other duties'? Do you think she will be in danger?"

"All of us are in danger, Headmaster." Snape sighed. "She is a pureblood, and perhaps not in as much danger compared to a Muggleborn, but her Veela blood means that she has an abundance of elemental magic. Such a thing might be tempting to him. She has yet to choose a side, though we assume she is either neutral at worst, or against the Dark Lord."

"How is she faring?"

"Poppy has checked her on a regular basis the past two days. Seems to be doing fine, I have had no contact with her, except in the classroom, and there has been no…physical contact of any kind."

"Do you think that the bond is helping her?"

"It would seem so." Severus said, rubbing his eyes again, and then taking a sip of his coffee.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, studying his dark Potions Professor.

"What?" Severus said irritably.

"I'm just concerned about you." Dumbledore said softly. "Are you alright?"

"Of course, Headmaster." Snape hissed, his voice fairly dripping with sarcasm. "I'm having an affair with a student while I'm spying on the Dark Lord. At any given moment, my life, or my career as a Potions Master, or perhaps both, will come to a spectacular end. I spend most every waking hour walking a tightrope above an abyss, knowing full well that one false step could be the ruin of the Wizarding world. I'm just fine. Everything is wonderful."

"When was the last time you had a decent night's sleep?"

"It was…two days ago."

"When you last slept with Miss Delacour." Dumbledore said, noting Severus' flinch at the mention of her name.

"It doesn't matter how well I sleep, Headmaster." Severus snapped, a bitter edge to his voice. "Only that I perform my duties. Doesn't it?"

A soft knock at the door drew their attention.

"Enter." Dumbledore called out. The door opened, and Poppy came in, closing the door gently behind herself. Snape slumped in his chair, picking up his cup and idly swirling the dregs of his coffee.

"Headmaster. Severus." She nodded to them, walking over to the couch.

"You have news for us?" Dumbledore asked, lifting the lid on his candy dish. "Butter rum crunch?"

"No, thank you, Albus." Poppy said, sitting down and smoothing out her skirts. "I just examined Marie. She had an…episode in her sixth period Arithmancy class."

"Is she alright?" Asked the Headmaster.

"She's resting quietly now, in the Hospital Wing."

Turning to Severus, Poppy pursed her lips for a moment, as if considering how she should put things.

"Severus, I think she'll be needing you tonight." She said, flinching slightly when Snape glared at her. "I don't judge, Severus. I deal with my patients, and their problems. There's no need to be so hateful."

ooOoo

At exactly nine o' clock, the flames in his fireplace turned green, and Marie stepped into his sitting room, brushing ash off of her robes. He was sitting in his favorite armchair reading, with a glass of firewhiskey on the table next to him.

"Good evening, Professor-" She began, and then faltered at the sharp look he gave her. "Um, sorry. Good evening, Severus."

"Good evening…Marie." He said, softening his gaze. "I heard you had…a problem today."

"I tried to hold out as long as I could, Sir." She said, blushing. "Sorry. I…I just…"

"It's alright." He said gently, closing his book and setting it aside. "You can't help this, remember."

"I'll…just put my things in the…bedroom." She said softly, her voice nervous and unsteady.

As she passed by him, she paused to take his hand, closing her eyes for a moment as the warmth flowed through her, easing her pain. As her knees sagged underneath her, she felt his other hand on her back, guiding her as she came to rest on his lap, dropping her overnight bag. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes, blushing.

"I…I'm sorry, Sir." She stammered nervously. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's alright." He sighed. "It has been three days now, almost. I don't mind helping you."

Getting up, she went to the bedroom, feeling a bit better.

He sighed quietly, picking up the glass of firewhiskey to take a sip. He had scarcely raised it to his lips when he felt the Dark Mark on his arm begin to burn.

ooOoo

"Severus? It's almost eleven, are you coming to bed?"

Marie walked into the sitting room, frowning when she found it empty.

Then she saw the glass on the floor, the firewhiskey soaking into the Oriental rug. Her blue eyes widened, a cold terror gripping her heart.

_He's been summoned_, she thought, struggling to calm herself down. _He usually has more warning than this. _

_What has happened? Is he in danger?_

Crossing the room to the fireplace, she took a handful of floo powder and tossed it into the flames.

"Headmaster's quarters." She said nervously, taking her wand and _vanishing_ the firewhiskey on the rug.

After a few minutes, the Headmaster's face appeared in the flames.

"Yes, Severus, what is it…" He blinked, and then smiled. "Oh, hello, Marie."

"Headmaster, he's gone." She blurted out, tucking her wand back into the pocket of her bathrobe. "He was summoned."

"Summoned?" Dumbledore said softly, his eyes widening in surprise. "Oh, dear."

"What should I do, Sir?"

"Stay there, for now. I'll notify Poppy." The Headmaster paused for a moment, and then sighed. "You may as well get dressed. I may need you to come with me."

After the Headmaster closed the connection, Marie fairly ran to the bedroom, her heart pounding. Shucking her bathrobe and nightgown, she quickly dressed in blue jeans and a t-shirt, tugging an old jumper over her head. After putting on her trainers, she gathered her hair up in a single ponytail, tying it back with rubber band that she conjured.

Going back to the sitting room, she went to his favorite armchair and sat down, pulling her legs up in the chair with her.

_Please, Merlin, let him be alright. Please._

With an anxious sigh, she began to wait.

ooOoo

"Over here, Marie."

Hearing the Headmaster's voice near the edge of the clearing ahead, she began to run toward the bobbing light at the end of Dumbledore's wand. She nearly tripped over Severus, who lay on the ground, curled up in his traveling cloak. The coppery smell of blood assaulted her nostrils, bringing forth a wave of nausea that she struggled to push away.

"Is he…" She gasped, struggling to catch her breath. "Is he…Oh, Merlin…"

"No." Dumbledore said softly, waving his wand and chanting a healing charm. "See if you can get him to swallow some blood-replenishment potion."

"What about pain-relieving potion?" Marie asked, fumbling through the satchel she had slung on her shoulder for the needed vials.

"I fear that they have used _Crucio_ on him…so it won't do much good."

Fighting back her tears, she knelt, gently lifting his head to dribble a few droplets of blood-replenishment potion between his lips. He felt icy cold to her, with none of the usual warm feeling of relief washing over her body when she touched his skin. Instead, it was if she felt even worse, her pain flaring even more. Gritting her teeth against her own discomfort, she gently massaged his throat to make sure he swallowed the potion.

Dumbledore watched as she cared for him, assessing their one-sided interaction. With a sigh, he ran his wand over Severus again, carefully assessing the injuries.

"I think he's stable enough to take to the Hospital Wing." The Headmaster said gently. "Are you alright to apparate, dear? Do I need to come back to get you?"

"No, I'm fine." Marie said in an unsteady voice, her jaw set in determination. "Take him. I'll be right behind you."

ooOoo

He blinked, the morning sun painful to his eyes.

_Hospital Wing. My usual room, it appears to be._

_Merlin, I'm so thirsty._

He flexed his fingers, noting that his right hand seemed rather warm. As his mind slowly cleared, he realized that someone was holding his hand. With a painful effort, he turned his head to the right, squinting to see more clearly.

Marie Delacour was slumped in a chair next to his bed, her head pillowed on her arms, her fingers interlaced with his. A reddish-brown stain marred her fair skin above her brow, where she had evidently carelessly wiped her hand on it. Similar stains decorated her fingernails, as well as the light gray jumper she was wearing.

He wiggled his fingers, attempting to free his hand.

With a gasp of fright, she sat up, her blue eyes wide and terrified.

"Severus!" She gasped, and then clapped her hand to her mouth, blushing at her carelessness.

"It's alright." He whispered softly, his throat feeling like it had been sandpapered.

Hesitantly, she smiled at him, and then rose from her chair, looking slightly dazed, her face turning very pale.

"Marie?" He croaked, alarmed by the expression on her face.

To his horror, her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed, sliding to the floor, her chair tipping over with a clatter. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he turned on one side, hunting for the call bell, and rang it vigorously.

ooOoo

"How is she?" Dumbledore asked, walking briskly alongside Poppy.

"The poor girl's exhausted. She collapsed shortly after Severus awakened; thank Merlin, he was able to ring the call bell. She hit her head on the chair when she fell, so she has a slight concussion. I also had to close up a small cut on her scalp with my wand."

"I'll need to speak to him privately, if you don't mind."

"Not at all, Albus."

The Medi-Witch pushed open the door to Severus' hospital room, holding it open for the Headmaster to enter, then left, her footsteps echoing softly in the empty hospital corridor. As a precaution, Dumbledore warded the door, and cast _muffliato_to discourage any potential eavesdropping. He went to the foot of the bed, resting his hand on the bedframe as he looked down at the occupants of the bed.

Poppy had widened the bed, and had put Marie in it, on Severus' right side, which was not as badly injured. Her face was mostly hidden by her hair, her mouth slack as she slept deeply, using his shoulder as a pillow with her hand on his bare chest. After a moment, Severus opened his eyes.

"Hello…Albus." He said, his voice still weak and thin.

"Hello, Severus." Dumbledore said softly, sitting down in a chair beside the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, thank you." Snape said, with a wince as he shifted in the bed.

"I take it that your meeting with Tom went badly."

"Not that badly." He said, shaking his head. "Most of this…is due to Bellatrix. She was…angry that I refused to give Marie's name."

"Tom knows about Marie?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes widening in alarm.

"He does…I couldn't help it, Albus." Snape said, licking his lips to moisten them. "He…he was in my head much quicker than I anticipated, forcing his way in quite far before I could regain control."

"How much were we compromised?"

Snape grinned faintly, though his face was rather pale.

"In a way…" He replied, taking a moment to catch his breath, "It was a good thing that he ran across the memories of Marie and I. It…distracted him just long enough for me to rebuild my defenses. He learned nothing of importance."

"What does he know of Marie? What did you have to tell him?"

"I told him…that I no longer enjoyed the revels." Snape said, hesitating a bit. "I told him that I had…seduced a student from a pureblood Wizarding family of good repute, to use as my personal plaything. That I had used _imperius _on her, forcing her to be with me against her will. Bellatrix was…angry that I said that I…would not be sharing Marie…at the revels. For now…the Dark Lord has declared her…off limits."

"Merlin's beard." Dumbledore said softly. "Do you think she will be safe?"

"As safe as she can be, Headmaster." Snape sighed, looking longingly at the pitcher of water on the bedside table.

"Forgive me, Severus." Dumbledore said, rising to get a glass and fill it with cool water from the pitcher.

Holding it carefully to Severus' mouth, he conjured a straw to help his Potions professor drink.

"So what happened to her, Albus?" Severus said, once he was able to speak again.

"I believe that the bond," Dumbledore said, stroking his beard, "is acting as a conduit for magic between you two. The potion that Miss Hargrove slipped to Marie reacted with her Veela blood, and caused her condition, and also caused her to unconsciously bond with you. Touching you allows your magic to flow to her, easing her pain.

"When you were injured, the bond acted in reverse, causing her magic to flow to you, healing your injuries. She lost consciousness because her magic was drained so rapidly."

"Is there…any permanent harm?" Snape asked softly, glancing down at Marie, who still slept soundly.

"I don't think so." Dumbledore said. "I'm going to check with her mother, who seems to know more than anyone else I've spoken with on this matter. She was the one who was able to tell me about the healing properties of the bond. Helene told me that her mother and father could not so much as cut a finger chopping potions ingredients without it being healed almost instantly."

"Sounds like a good thing."

"Mind you, Severus, that was after nearly thirty years. The bond grows stronger with time."

"Tell me, Albus," Severus said softly, "what will happen to her if I die?"

Dumbledore frowned, looking rather uncomfortable.

"Honestly, Severus…I do not know. I would assume…that the bond would weaken."

"And if it weakens, so…so will she." Snape said softly.

Marie shifted, frowning in her sleep as she snuggled closer to Severus. He glanced down at her for a moment, and then looked back at the Headmaster.

"For her sake, we need to find a cure for this," Severus said, "and if possible, find a way to break the bond. I will not have her suffer the same fate as her grandmother, if I can help it."

"You may survive."

"Please, Albus." Snape sneered. "We both know how unlikely that is. The odds are slim to none."

"Slim odds are better than nothing, Severus."

"All the same, we must find a cure for her, and some way to ensure that she survives."

ooOoo

By the time Severus' wounds had fully healed, Marie was able to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time. It frightened him, how pitifully weak she was. When he was finally able to get out of bed and limp around the room, she was still bedridden, so exhausted that he had to feed her meals to her.

"I don't know what to do for her, other than let her rest, Severus." Poppy had snapped irritably when he'd asked about it. "I've done everything that I can for her. Her magic was nearly drained."

Her other professors had sent her schoolwork to the Hospital Wing, and she worked till exhaustion, trying to keep up with her classes. Horace Slughorn had been called in to teach Potions while Severus was recovering, so his classes weren't a problem, at least.

"I'm sorry that I'm so sick, Sir." She said one evening, after supper.

"It's alright." He sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily. "You can't help it. We need to be more careful in the future, whenever I am injured."

_He said 'we'_, she thought, warmth suffusing her cheeks. _'We.'_

"I don't like the sound of that." She said, trembling a bit. "I'm afraid for you, whenever…you go to meet with him. I wish you didn't have to do it."

"But it is what I must do."

"Doesn't mean that I have to like it."

"I will be more careful." Severus said, frowning slightly. "I don't want you to fall ill again, as you did this time."

He took her hand in his own, hoping that the bond might help her, transferring his magical strength to her.

"It's not your fault, you know." Marie said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "You can't help what the bond does with our magic."

"I know." He replied.

ooOoo

May 7, 1995~

She was propped up in her bed, trying to read, when her mother walked in. Helene Delacour smiled warmly at the all too familiar sight of her daughter completely engrossed in a thick book.

"Good morning, ma bichette." She said softly, approaching the bed with her bag.

"Mama!" Marie said, her face breaking into a brilliant smile.

Helene put her bag down and leaned down to give Marie a warm hug.

"How are you, darling?" She asked her daughter, giving her a stern look tempered with a smile. "I heard that you were sick."

"Oh, it's nothing, Mama." Marie blurted out, blushing deeply. "I just overdid it, helping Poppy."

"I brought you something." Helene said gently, reaching into her bag and retrieving a small box, which she handed to Marie.

"What is this?"

"Open it."

Marie undid a catch, flipping open the lid. The box held twelve small vials of some potion, which was a reddish-purple hue, shimmering slightly in the bottle.

"You should probably take one right now, Marie." Her mother said, looking down at her hands.

"But what is it, Mama?" Her daughter asked, uncorking one of the vials and sniffing the contents.

_I know this smell, though it is a bit off_, she thought, abruptly blushing scarlet.

"This is…contraceptive potion, isn't it?" Marie asked in a hushed whisper.

"Yes, it is." Helene said just as softly. "Professor Snape, he has taught you well."

"I smell…Cuando root…and jonquil oil."

"Yes. I followed a formula in your Grandfather's potions notes. It is the standard once monthly contraceptive potion, with the formula adjusted for someone with Veela blood. I feared that the regular formula…might not be effective."

By this point in the conversation, Marie had turned deathly pale.

"You have been…with him, yes?" Helene sighed, frowning. "You used the regular contraceptive potion, did you not?"

Marie nodded silently, tears welling up in her eyes. Helene closed her eyes tightly, pinching the bridge of her nose, and let out a sigh.

"Well, all we can do is hope for the best." Helene said finally, giving Marie a smile of encouragement.

ooOoo

June 6, 1995~

"Now, what did I tell you?"

"To be polite to him." Marcel Delacour sighed, eyeing his wife as she put the final touches on the sitting room.

"And?"

"If you give me 'the look', that I am to retire to my study."

"That is not what I told you." Helene said, anger creeping into her voice.

"Helene-"

"Don't you 'Helene' me." She snapped. "They'll be here any minute now. They are spending two weeks with us, and we're lucky they can visit that long. And I will have a good visit with them, understood?"

"Yes, dear." Marcel sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Remember, first and foremost, this is not their fault." Helene said, picking a nearly invisible speck of lint off of his robes. "Second, according to Veela custom, they're as good as married. They will be sleeping in Marie's room-"

"I cannot believe this-"

"-and you will not give either of them a hard time about it. Understood?"

The doorbell chimed, causing both of them to jump slightly.

"That's them." Helene said, patting her hair, and then shooting a glare at her husband. "Remember what I told you."

Marcel began to say something, and then thought better of it.

ooOoo

September 30, 1995~

Severus looked up from his desk as the door opened, scowling at Professor Flitwick. His students were right in the middle of making their first ever batch of Pepper-Up potion, and he'd already warded off one near catastrophe. Geoffery Phelan would be spending the next two night in detention with Filch after he attempted to put Leaping Toadstool dust in a fellow student's potion as a prank; the combination would have been sure to make most of the class deathly nauseous from the fumes.

"Professor Flitwick, is there some reason," He hissed irritably, "that you could not wait until after my second period Potions class was finished to come in?"

"We've done it, Severus." Flitwick panted, struggling to catch his breath. "We have something, not a cure for Miss Delacour, but at least, something that will help."

His class forgotten for the moment, Snape advanced on the short wizard, kneeling to be on eye level with him.

"The trial was successful?" He asked softly. "The powdered Yimbe root, did it help?"

"Yes, it did." Flitwick said, leaning on a desk. "That was brilliant of you to suggest it. The trial was very successful. Granted, we need you to tweak the formula a bit, make it easier to make, but it works wonderfully. She was able to go thirty-one hours between doses."

"Thirty-one…hours." Snape said softly, standing up.

"Yes, thirty-one." The shorter wizard said, nodding his head. "Of course, Poppy is recommending that she take it once every twenty-four, just to give herself a longer serum time with the potion. She tolerates the ingredients well, though. No side effects."

At that point, Fiona Mercer's cauldron began to boil over, causing Snape to whirl on her angrily. The petite blond first-year turned deathly pale, her blue eyes widening as her Potions instructor descended upon her like a thundercloud. He began to speak, but could not.

_Blue eyes, almost as blue as…hers_, came unbidden to his mind. He drew his wand, the anger dissipating from his face.

"Start over again, Miss Mercer." He said, _vanishing_ the mess. "Mind the heat next time."

For a long moment, Fiona sat there, blinking, unable to believe her good luck. After the student next to her poked her in the ribs, she came out of her trance, rapidly assembling her ingredients to begin making her potion.

"Come by my office later, Severus." Flitwick said, watching his colleague carefully the whole time. "We'll…we can discuss the potion for Miss Delacour."

"Yes, of course, Professor Flitwick." Snape said softly, walking toward his desk at the front of the classroom.

The remainder of the class passed without incident, mainly due to Professor Snape's uncharacteristic behavior. He was polite, reserved, and distant, which was completely unnerving to the first-years. However, there were few mistakes made, and in all, half the class made a passable potion. When they had cleaned up and the last student had shuffled out the door, he closed the door behind them with a wave of his hand.

With a sigh, he dropped his head, cradling it in his hands as he sat behind his desk.

_I've made a terrible mistake_, he thought uneasily.

_I allowed her to get close to me, to get under my skin._

_And now I am unwilling to let her go. I'm being selfish._

_I must let her go. It is the only way she might survive what is coming._

_Will she hate me when she finds out what I am?_

_Why do I care?_

_Let her go_, he told himself, the very thought causing his heart to constrict painfully._ Let her live._

_If I do one thing right, let it be for her._

ooOoo

November 21, 1995~

"Good morning, Marie." Poppy said, opening the curtains. "How do you feel this morning?"

"I…feel fine." She said, blinking in the morning sunlight. "The new potion…it works."

"No cramping, no pain?" The medi-witch asked, taking out a thermometer and putting it in Marie's mouth. "I'd say you slept pretty well; I don't think you moved all night."

"No…I slept really well. No dreams at all…I guess I was exhausted."

Poppy took out her wand and began running over Marie, murmuring a diagnostic charm. Satisfied, she put her wand away, smiling at Marie.

"It appears that the potion," Poppy said, "That Professor Snape brewed is working just as we hoped it would. You've been able to go nearly thirty-four hours with no physical contact with him."

Marie gave Poppy an uncertain smile, and then sat up on the bed.

"I can be normal again." Marie said softly, glancing out the window. "I…I could go spend Christmas holiday with my parents."

"I don't see why not." Poppy said, then took a vial out of her pocket, handing it to Marie. "But you'd better not forget to take your potion every morning. There's today's dose. You take that, and I'll go let Headmaster Dumbledore and the others know that it worked. They'll be delighted."

Marie took the stopper out of the vial and drank the contents, making a face at the taste of it.

"Ugh." She groaned, shuddering. "Did Professor Snape intend for it to taste this bad?"

"I can't say as he did for sure." The medi-witch smirked, taking the empty vial and _vanishing_ it. "I know that the contraceptive potion that he teaches the students to make has an little extra ingredient to make sure that it tastes awful, though. But you didn't hear that from me, mind you."

Marie giggled at that, covering her mouth politely.

"Now, you get dressed," Poppy smiled, patting the young witch on the shoulder, "and come out to the front of the Hospital Wing. I'm sure that Headmaster Dumbledore and the other would like to see you before you go back to your dorm."

"Um…Poppy?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Has Professor Snape returned yet?" Marie asked, a note of anxiety creeping into her voice.

"No, dear." The Medi-witch said gently, folding a blanket. "He didn't go to see you-know-who, though. He went to Paris, to pick up some items for the Headmaster."

ooOoo

January 6, 2005, 8:10 a.m. ~

"Wake up, Miss Delacour."

She frowned, rubbing her eyes and squinting against the too-bright sunlight coming in the window.

_Right when my dream was really starting to get good_, she thought sourly. _He has such impeccable timing, the irritating git._

"Your potion is ready." Severus said, holding a vial in front of her. "I suggest you take it, and prepare for your journey home."

"I'm not going home." She said firmly, taking the vial from him.

"I beg to differ." He replied, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. "You have a thirty day supply of the potion to take home, as well as another thirty days' worth when you get to your apartment. There is no reason for you to stay."

"Now that I've found you," She snapped, glaring stubbornly up at him, "I'm not going to take the chance of losing track of you again."

"You have no need to stay in contact with me." He said, turning away from her toward the door.

Slipping out of the bed, she furiously threw the vial with all her strength at the floor. Instead of shattering, it simply bounced a few times, and then came to rest at his feet.

"_Accio_ vial." He said softly, catching it deftly in one hand. "I took the precaution of putting a cushioning charm on the vials—all of them. Just to make sure they don't get broken."

For several minutes, she glared up at him, feeling her anger slowly dissipate, shifting into another emotion entirely. He watched her silently, idly rolling the vial about in his hand.

"For the past seven years," Marie said, trembling as her eyes filled with tears, "I grieved for you. I can't count the number of nights I wept over you, about how you died, about how I felt I should have done something to save you-"

"No one could have saved me, Miss Delacour." He sighed. "It was best for everyone that I be dead."

"But you're not dead."

"Really? What an astute observation." He sneered quietly, raising an eyebrow. "Five…points…to Ravenclaw."

"Please, Severus. Don't be so ugly to me. I care for you."

"Nonsense." Snape scoffed. "Surely you've found a decent wizard to have a relationship with by now."

"I can't." Marie blushed.

"Of course you can."

"No." She said firmly, shaking her head. "I tried several times. It was impossible."

For a long moment, he stared down at her.

"Even with the potion?" He asked softly.

"Even with the potion." She nodded. "He…I couldn't bear for him to touch me. It was a complete disaster."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"I…I failed you." He said, unwilling to look at her. "I should have…"

He seemed to lose touch with the conversation, withdrawing into himself for a moment.

"That's it." Snape murmured finally, almost to himself. "The gingko leaves…"

"What?" Marie asked, rather puzzled by now.

"Of course." He murmured to himself, rubbing his forehead. "I need to figure out a cure. Flitwick and Sprout, they settled for a temporary fix, when all we needed to do…was reverse the effects."

With that, he turned, walking out of his bedroom to his tiny makeshift potions lab, muttering under his breath. Shivering as she followed him, her feet bare on the cold wooden floor, Marie _accio'ed_ one of the blankets from the couch. He was still mumbling when she came into the room, his arms partly crossed, with a finger tapping on his chin as he thought half-aloud.

"Too small…much too small." He mused, seeming scarcely aware that she had come in. "I'll need space for more cauldrons, a better preparation area, materials and supplies…"

"And your library." She offered hesitantly, shivering, the blanket wrapped around her.

"My library is gone." He said softly, with just a touch of bitterness. "Destroyed in the Battle of Hogwarts, or plundered in my absence—more correctly, after my death. I'll have to find what I need through an agent of some sort, anonymously."

"I…I could find the books you need."

His response was a snort of derision.

"I rather doubt that." He said.

"I can." She said defiantly. "Anything you need from the Hogwarts library, anything in the world. I can even get you access to your old potions lab, the hidden one near your old quarters at Hogwarts. Even your library."

He stared at her for a long moment, the expression on his face a mixture of yearning and disbelief, resembling a starving man presented with a feast. Then it vanished, replaced by disbelief and doubt.

"And just how do you propose to accomplish such a feat?" Snape scoffed, looming over her.

Marie swallowed nervously, backing up until she felt the stone wall of the cottage at her back.

"I didn't go to Hogwarts to just get Poppy to replace the vials of the potion that were damaged."

"Really." He said, the way he drew out every syllable causing a chill to run down her spine.

"No, Sir." Marie said, drawing herself up to her full height. "I was summoned there."

_I will not let him intimidate me_, she thought. _I have the upper hand now, and he has no idea what I have in store for him._

"I met with Headmistress McGonagall." She said, cursing her voice for nearly failing her. "To formally accept employment there. I'll be working as an assistant librarian with Madam Pince, starting next week."

"Well, then…congratulations on your new job." He said, smirking slightly. "I'm certain that you will enjoy working with Madam Pince."

"I've never had any problem with her."

"Really? Well, that's good." Snape said, and then crossed his arms. "I am most curious as to how you propose to secure access to my old library and lab for me. Given the fact that I am 'dead'."

"It won't be difficult, Sir." Marie said, smirking at him. "Tell me, how many are in on this secret? That you aren't really dead, but in hiding?"

With a sigh, he thought about it for a moment.

"Poppy, Headmistress McGonagall, Lucius Malfoy…Madam Pince…" He said, ticking them off on his fingers as he looked toward the ceiling, then sharply at her. "…and now…you."

"Potions classes have been moved out of the dungeons," Marie said, "to a ground level classroom, because the students now believe that the old Potions classroom is haunted."

"Nonsense." Severus scoffed. "Hogwarts students, afraid of ghosts, when ghosts run rampant through the castle? Preposterous!"

"Actually, the ghosts have been most helpful, especially Peeves and the Bloody Baron. Thanks to their efforts, virtually no students venture near the old Potions classrooms. They miss you, Sir."

Crossing the short distance to him, she took his hands, her eyes closing momentarily as the warmth and relief washed over her. Forcing herself back to the present, she looked up at him, smiling gently.

"Come to Hogwarts with me, Severus." Marie said softly. "You can stay in your old quarters with me; work in your old lab, read in your library. You'll be safe there, safer than you are here. You can work on a cure for me."

"What about the students? The staff?" He scowled. "How will you explain my being there?"

"Simple." She smirked up at him. "You're a new ghost."

ooOoo

January 9, 2005, evening~

"Happy Birthday!"

Severus looked up from his desk, where he had been poring through a much-used copy of 'Penninger's Arithmancy: Advanced Concepts for Charms and Hexes', which was stuffed with scraps of parchment, with notes jotted in every margin. He scowled at the sight before him.

Marie Delacour, carefully carrying a chocolate cake, decorated with candles, their light flickering on her face as she walked into his private quarters from the old Potions classroom. She was smiling, trailed by two house elves carrying trays loaded with food.

As he watched, a sour expression on his face, she conjured a table for the elves to set the food out on, and placed the cake gently on the center of the table. Flashing him a brilliant smile, she turned to the house elves.

"Merky, Sofia, bring the presents from my office in the library, and set them up on the other end of the table, please."

With two _pops_, the elves vanished, off to perform their task.

"How am I supposed to work with things like this going on?" He sighed, _accioing_ a scrap of cloth to wipe his quill off with.

"You need a break, Severus." Marie smiled gently. "It is your birthday, and I wanted to celebrate it properly. I rather doubt you've had a good birthday lately."

"Why celebrate it?"

"Because I am glad you are alive." She replied, turning serious for a moment. "Because despite your grumpiness, you have to admit that you are happy to be back in your old lab, to have your library back. Admit it; you're even having fun going out at night to frighten students."

"That is rather entertaining." He smirked thoughtfully. "I thought that Betsy Lemont and Timothy Markham might soil themselves when I came upon them in the garden last night."

She crossed the room to his desk, leaning over and gently taking the quill from his hand to place it on the desk. The house elves reappeared with a _pop_, laden with gifts wrapped in brightly colored paper.

"Come on." Marie said, taking his hand and tugging on it gently. "Let's eat, then we'll have cake and you can open your gifts."

"You spent too much." He frowned as he eyed the numerous brightly wrapped boxes, though he allowed her to lead him to the table and seat him in a chair. She knelt next to his chair, looking up at him.

"Severus." She said sharply. "I'm very happy that you are alive, and I will spend my money as I please. You…you've had no one to care for you, no one to celebrate your birthday with, for years. It…"

Marie turned her head away from him, rising so he wouldn't see her face.

"The cake is German chocolate," She said after she got up and went to her own seat, once she trusted her voice to speak again, "with bittersweet chocolate icing. I hope you'll like it."

They ate their meal more or less in silence. Marie seemed lost in her own thoughts; more than once, Severus found that he had to repeat himself when he ventured to speak to her. She'd obviously charmed the candles to burn continuously without dripping wax on the cake, all forty-four of them. He couldn't help but admire such attention to little details like that.

"Marie."

"Hm?" She blinked, startled out of her reverie.

"I asked you what you studied at Lores University." He said patiently.

"Oh…I double majored in Charms and Arithmancy, with a minor in Potions."

"So how did you manage to get the job as an assistant librarian?" He frowned.

"Oh…that." She smiled, but only for a moment. "I worked at the university library while I was a student. It was good experience, and it helped me in my classes. I was able to study a lot."

"I see."

She didn't seem inclined to elaborate further. He was surprised to find that her silence bothered him far more than her constant chatter. They continued to eat in silence, though most of what she was doing was toying with her food. After watching her push a pea around her plate for several minutes, he decided to try another subject.

"Were you on the Quiddich team?"

"What?"

"The Lores University Quiddich team." He said, setting his fork down. "I hear they're quite good. Finished second just last year in the finals."

"I…I haven't played Quiddich since the year before I graduated from Hogwarts, Sir."

"Why?" He said finally, feeling stunned.

She said nothing, only looked at her hands in her lap, her cheeks reddening.

ooOoo

October 20, 1995~

"I'm sorry, but my decision is final." Madam Hooch said softly.

Marie Delacour sat across from her, stunned at what she'd just been told.

_I can't play Quiddich any more if I'm not allowed on a broom_, she thought.

"Madam Hooch, I…" she began, trailing off as her coach and mentor slowly shook her head.

"I just cannot take the risk, Marie." The older witch said sadly. "One slip like you had last Wednesday, and you—or another student—could be badly injured, or even killed. You're not safe to fly on a broom anymore, not with your…problem."

"Poppy, please!" The student desperately begged, turning to the Medi-witch sitting beside her in Madam Hooch's office. "I can ride a broom fine! I have the potion that Professor Snape made for me, I just—"

"I'm sorry, Marie." Poppy said, shaking her head. "Your aliment is affecting your balance, your reflexes. One more slip like the one you had last week could be disastrous, as Madam Hooch said. We don't dare risk it."

Tears streamed freely down Marie's face as she sat there, absently toying with the edge of the cast on her right arm.

_I'll never be able to play Quiddich again._

ooOoo

January 9, 2005~

"Miss Delacour?"

After a few minutes with no response, he knocked on the door again, frowning.

"Go away!" She shouted, fiercely enough that he backed up half a step.

_To hell with this nonsense_, Severus thought, taking out his wand.

"I'm going to count to three," he said, "and then I'm coming in. One. Two. Thr-"

With a click, the door was unlocked, opening slightly. He pushed it open carefully, peeking inside.

She was sitting on the bed, huddled in a blanket that she'd wrapped around herself.

"Lumos." He murmured, lighting the candle by the bedside. She glanced over at him, and then turned away in a huff. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying.

"The cake is very good." He said, feeling rather awkward. She didn't respond.

He waited a few more minutes anyway.

"I'm sorry that I ruined the evening." He sighed. "I didn't know that what I asked about would upset you so much."

"It's alright." She mumbled, picking at a loose thread on the blanket. "I wasn't that good, anyway."

"I…" He hesitated, unsure if he should say it, feeling rather foolish. "I thought that you were the best chaser I'd ever seen on a broom."

She glanced up at him, her eyes dark with suspicion, then looked back at her hands.

"You're just saying that to be nice to me." She muttered softly. "Not that it matters much now."

"Since when have I ever said something 'just to be nice'?" He said, smirking just a bit.

"It doesn't matter, anyway." Marie huffed, turning her back to him again. "My Quiddich playing was over when that bitch slipped me that potion."

He sighed, acknowledging defeat. He walked over to the bed and sat down to slip off his dragonhide boots.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Getting ready for bed."

"I took a potion." Marie said, her voice cold and bordering on hostile. "You aren't needed here."

"So where should I sleep, given that this is my bedroom?"

"Was your bedroom." She corrected him. "You are no longer a member of the Hogwarts faculty; these are my assigned quarters now. It was the best way that I could preserve your private library and potions laboratory."

"You're kidding me." He snapped, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Not at all." She said, her voice cool. "It wasn't difficult, seeing as the rooms haven't been occupied in years. Now, go sleep on the couch, go haunt the dungeons; I really don't care what you do. But you're not sleeping in here with me."

With that, she lay down on the bed, wrapping herself up in the blanket to the point that only a bit of the blonde hair on her head was visible. Severus sat there awkwardly with one boot on, the other in his hand, for several minutes. With a sigh, he slipped the boot back on and got up. Pausing only to retrieve a pillow and a blanket from the closet, he went out of the bedroom, closing the door gently behind him.

ooOoo

He wasn't sure what time it was; only that it was still dark when he opened his eyes. The only source of light was the dying coals in the fireplace.

She was standing next to the couch, wrapped in her blanket.

"Do you need another vial of the potion?" He asked, sitting up. She shook her head.

"I'm fine." She said softly, shivering in the cold sitting room. "I…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did. I was just angry with you. Come to bed, Severus. Please."

Getting up, he followed her to the bedroom, which was lit by a single candle by her side of the bed. She climbed back into the bed as he picked up his pajamas and went to change. Reaching over and picking up the pillow on his side, she plumped it up, putting it back as he returned, wearing only the pajama pants. He got into the bed on the unoccupied side, lying down as she extinguished the candle with a softly spoken '_nox_'.

After a moment, she rolled over on her side, facing him, sliding one arm around him to put her hand on his chest as she put her cheek to his bare back. He didn't say anything, just lay there.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I just….I'm sorry I was so hateful."

"It's alright." He sighed. "Merlin knows, you've suffered enough because of me."

"It's not your fault, you know."

"I haven't found a way to cure it yet." Severus whispered back. "You've suffered because of this for the past ten years, and all I've been able to do is create a potion that can blunt the pain. That's not good enough."

"You've only been working on a cure the past two days." Marie said, closing her eyes. "You need to pace yourself. You've only been back at Hogwarts for three days, and you've spent most of it working on a cure."

"It's what I should have done long ago."

"Water under the bridge, Severus. None of us expected to survive the last Wizarding War. A potion to blunt the pain was good enough."

"But—"

"Severus." She said sharply. "It's almost two in the morning. In another four hours, you'll be up, if you don't wake before then. We both need our sleep. Now, good night."

"Good night, Marie." He sighed, closing his eyes.

After a while, he was asleep, softly snoring as he lay on his back, with Marie curled up alongside him, her hand still resting on his chest while she made use of his arm as a pillow.

_I need to sleep, but I can't_, she thought, wide awake not forty minutes after scolding Severus that they needed to sleep.

_Should I tell him?_

_He'd never believe me._

_Best just to wait, and hope for a cure. Soon._

With a sigh, she closed her eyes and tried to go to sleep, snuggling closer to his warmth.

_I have other things to worry about, _she thought uneasily. _Worse than what I've put off telling him for the past seven years._

_I really should be honest with him._

_I need to tell him that it's getting worse._

ooOoo

_She was sitting at a desk, revising her notes on a sheet of parchment as she read her text on Advanced Potions. While she had been able to maintain an 'Exceeds Expectations', the 'Outstanding Work' constantly seemed to elude her so far._

_Suddenly the doors to the library burst open with a bang, admitting a mob of students that ran in, whooping and cheering. She stood up, frowning at them, holding her finger up to her lips._

"_Monsieurs, Mademoiselles!" She snapped, glaring at them. "This is a library, not a playground. You must be quiet or you will have to leave!"_

"_It's over, Marie! It's finally over!" Rene Gaspin shouted, slipping behind the desk to grab her by her waist and hoist her exuberantly into the air. _

_With a grimace of discomfort, she freed herself, dropping lightly to her feet. Turning to glare at Rene, she straightened her robes._

"_What, Rene?" She hissed, still angry that the crowd had not calmed down. She'd be in trouble with Madam Colbert if she wasn't able to quiet them down, and soon. With a nervous glance toward the head librarian's office, she grabbed Rene by his robes._

"_Rene! Answer me! Why are you and this lot making so much racket?"_

"_It's over, ma chérie!" He grinned. "The Dark Lord, he is dead!"_

"_That's wonderful!" She said, smiling, shushing the other students forgotten for now._

"_Marie!" Shouted Madam Colbert, as she walked toward the front desk from her office. "What is all this racket?"_

"_Good news, Madam Colbert!" Genevieve Cason said, taking the older witch by the arm. "Voldemort, he is dead, killed by Harry Potter!"_

"_Really?" Madam Colbert said, her weathered face breaking into a smile of relief. "This is wonderful! So it is finally over?"_

"_Oui, Madam!" Rene interjected from where he was standing next to Marie. "This is great news for you especially, is it not, Marie? Your father, he works with the Ministry of Magic in London, right? He is no longer in danger!"_

"_Oui, Rene." Marie said, the smile on her face fading a bit._

"_Many of his followers, the Death Eaters, they are dead, too! There was a great battle at Hogwarts, there was much damage, but they prevailed!"_

"_Rene!" Marie snapped, grabbing his robes. "What—"_

_He turned to face her, though he was no longer Rene. _

_Instead Severus stood before her, his robes drenched in blood from an ugly wound on his neck, his eyes lifeless—_

_She began to scream._

"Shush, now. Everything's alright, you're safe now."

Strong arms, holding her as she struggled, her throat already raw.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she began to see her surroundings as she came back to reality.

A dark bedroom, the only illumination coming from a single window that allowed just a bit of moonlight to enter.

Dark green, luxurious sheets, with a heavy green and gold duvet.

A heavy, four poster canopy bed, made of dark wood, intricately carved.

Grey stone walls and ceiling.

Gradually, she realized where she was, shivering in his arms.

In bed with Severus, gasping for breath, her heart hammering in her chest fit to burst through her ribs and fly away. Weakly, Marie clutched at him, closing her eyes tightly as she trembled against him.

"Bad dream?" He asked gently, unsure of what he could say.

She nodded silently, a shudder passing through her petite body.

"It's going to be alright." Severus said softly. "You're safe."

"Sorry." She whispered, her voice shaky. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Don't worry about it."

Still shivering, she nestled into his body, her hand on his chest. His hand was on her back, the feel of his slender fingers comforting to her.

ooOoo

January 12, 2005~

She was sitting in her office, cataloging new acquisitions for the library, when Madame Pince walked in. The older witch was carrying two steaming cups of coffee, and set one on the desk in front of her.

"I was thinking you might need that." Madam Pince said gently. "You look exhausted."

"There's just so much to do." Marie sighed, picking up the cup to blow gently on the coffee to cool it, and then taking a cautious sip. "Hopefully I can get the card indexes updated by the end of the month."

"That would be wonderful, dear. I can't imagine how I would have ever gotten it done without your help."

For a long while, they sat there together, drinking their coffee.

"Do you need me to watch the front desk for a while?" Marie asked.

"No, there are no students in the library." Madam Pince replied, setting her empty cup down on the table beside her, where it was promptly whisked away by a house elf. "It's been rather quiet today. They haven't been back from holiday all that long; they're busy with their homework assignments."

"Is there anything else you need me to do? I need to do something else, lest I go blind from cataloging these new books."

"Actually, I was wondering how things are going," Madame Pince smiled, "with your…roommate."

"My roommate?" Marie said, blushing deeply and nearly dropping her coffee cup.

"You know who I'm referring to." The older witch said with a smirk. "His birthday was just a few days ago. Did he like the cake we baked?"

Marie nodded.

"What about the presents?"

"He liked them, though he didn't say much." Marie said.

"He wouldn't." Madam Pince nodded. "So, is he spending his days in his potions lab, working on that cure for you, or sleeping? As terrified as the students are of the dungeons lately, I'm guessing he spends quite a bit of time 'haunting'."

"Actually, no." Marie laughed. "He spends most nights in the bed asleep. It didn't take much to talk Peeves into handling the 'haunting' in the dungeons."

"Well, he should be well rested, then."

"He's not." The younger witch said, her smile fading. "He works from before sunup till well past midnight. If I don't scold him, he won't come to bed at all. There have been several nights that I was so tired and slept so soundly that I found him in the potions lab when I got up the next morning."

"Oh, my."

"Indeed." Marie sighed, rubbing her eyes. "He's killing himself, trying to figure out the cure."

"Keep a close eye on him, then." Madam Pince said softly. "It won't do for him to fall ill."

Marie took another sip of her coffee, and rubbed her hands together, shivering.

"Are you cold, dear?" Madam Pince asked, frowning with concern over her young assistant.

"No, it's not that." Marie said, shaking her head as she opened a drawer in her desk. Retrieving a vial of silvery potion from a box, she drank it, making a face at the taste of it. She drank the last of her coffee after stoppering the empty vial and tucking into the pocket of her robes.

"It's not lasting, is it?" The older witch asked, a somber expression on her face.

Marie shook her head, her eyes on the books and ledger on her desk.

"Marie, tell him." Madam Pince urged her. "He needs to know."

"There's no reason to do that." Marie said firmly, shaking her head. "He has enough to worry about without adding this. I sleep in his bed every night, touching him, and so far he doesn't suspect a thing."

"He doesn't?"

"No." She said, lifting her chin in defiance. "I take my potion in the morning when I get up, and before going to bed. He doesn't know about this. I…I just have spells, every once in a while, while I'm away from him, and need a bit of the potion to help me through it. Perhaps, if you don't mind, I'll go to the dungeons on my breaks. Just to 'check on him', of course."

"But it's to get more of your potion, as you need it. Isn't it?"

The younger witch nodded, her eyes on the floor.

"Marie." The older witch said, leaning forward in her chair, concern in her face. "You're getting worse. You've gotten worse in just these last six weeks. You must tell him, or I will."

"You wouldn't dare." Marie said, trembling slightly as her façade of bravery crumbled. "You wouldn't risk speaking to him, lest he hex you. The Headmistress makes sure you two are well separated at the dinner table in the Great Hall for good reason."

"Try me." Madam Pince said dryly. "Severus and I may not get along, but I'm willing to do what I must, no matter how unpleasant, if it helps you. This is far more important than an old petty spat."

"Please don't."

"I can do worse than tell him, you know." The older witch smirked. "I'll tell Poppy and Minerva."

"Oh…gods, no." Marie said, blushing deeply. "Whatever you do, please don't do say anything to them. I'll tell him tonight, alright?"

"You'd better. There's no point in hiding it from him, you know. He probably already does, he just hasn't said anything yet."

ooOoo

May 3, 1998, approximately 2:30 a.m. ~

She was walking in one of the upper hallways of the Lores University women's dormitory, her golden prefect's badge glittering on her student robes. It had been fairly quiet tonight; she'd only caught three fellow students trying to sneak out around midnight to go to town. Delivering a scolding, she took points and sent them back to their rooms.

Rubbing her eyes wearily, she sighed. Each of the prefects had to patrol their dorm, mainly to keep students safe with the Second Wizarding War going on. Lores was unplottable, with multiple layers of magical and natural defenses, but Headmistress Gardiner demanded that everyone be vigilant.

She's almost as paranoid as Moody, Marie thought sourly, walking down the stairs to the second floor, where her fellow prefect's room was. Another thirty minutes, and Amelie would have to take over, until six.

Marie was only three steps from the bottom of the stairs when it hit her; a massive onslaught of cramping pain that took her breath and turned her legs to jelly. When it subsided, she found herself at the bottom of the stairs, sobbing in agony.

_Oh, Merlin, this hurts_, she thought, gritting her teeth.

Slipping her hand into the pocket of her robes, her hand closed on a vial. She uncorked it, putting it to her mouth and swallowing the contents, shuddering at the taste of it.

_Ugh. He had to make it taste horrible, didn't he?_

With a sigh, she got up carefully, going over to the wall and leaning weakly against it as she waited for the potion to take effect. Finally, after a few minutes, the pain subsided to a tolerable level.

_Whew, that was not fun at all, _she thought, walking briskly down the hallway._ I'd better go knock on Amelie's door, make sure she didn't oversleep again. I know she had a date with Michael last night._

As she reached Amelie's room, she raised her hand to knock on the door.

At the first rap of her knuckles on the wood, her legs went out from under her as she blacked out, slumping against the door.

ooOoo

May 7, 1998, 2 p.m. ~

With an effort, her eyes fluttered open, struggling to focus on the ornate pattern in the ceiling.

_Where am I?_ She wondered, completely disoriented.

"Marcel! Come in! She's awake."

_Mama…Papa…_

Her parents appeared at one side of the bed, her mother's eyes red and puffy from crying as she reached down and clutched Marie's hand tightly.

"Ma bichette…I was so worried, ma chérie." Helene sobbed, smoothing Marie's hair with her hand.

A wand moved over her, seeming to have come out of nowhere. Gradually she realized that Madam Courtland, the Head Medi-Witch at the school infirmary, was examining her.

"How are you feeling, Marie?" Madam Courtland asked, putting her wand away.

"I hurt." She whispered, shocked at how faint her voice was. "What…what happened? I remember knocking on Amelie's door…"

"You fainted, apparently." Madam Courtland said gently. "Miss Bertaut brought you to me."

The Medi-Witch went to a closet, retrieving a blanket and casting a warming charm on it. Walking back over to the bed, she carefully spread it over her shivering patient.

ooOoo

May 9, 1998~

It was late evening, and Marcel Delacour found his wife still sitting by the fireplace, her book forgotten as she stared into the flames.

"Helene." He sighed, hanging up his coat on the hall tree. "You should have gone on to bed, ma chérie."

"I wanted to know what you found out." She said, setting her book aside. "You have been at the Ministry all day. Is it really over?"

"It is. There are some scattered pockets of resistance, but the Aurors are rapidly cleaning those up. Most of the Death Eaters are dead now."

She sat for a moment quietly worrying her bottom lip with her teeth as he poured a glass of red wine, then came over to sit down on the couch with a sigh.

"What about…Professor Snape, Marcel? Is there any word of him?"

"Nothing, other than he was attacked by Nagini." He said hesitantly, taking a sip of wine.

Helene's eyes widened.

"Marcel, this is why Marie fell ill, I know it." She said, trembling as she leaned forward in her chair. "She felt the attack on him through the bond. We must find out where he is, and if he is injured."

"Impossible, Helene." He said, shaking his head. "There is no information on where he is. The Aurors could not find him anywhere after the battle at Hogwarts. Everything is a shambles; there has been much damage, with many casualties."

"But they have not found him?"

"Not a trace, I fear."

ooOoo

November 12, 2004~

"Marie, there's an owl for you."

"Thank you, Jenny." She said, taking off her traveling cloak and hanging it up, then walking to the sitting room. Indeed, there was a small screech owl waiting patiently on the fireplace mantel, and it held its leg out toward her, a small rolled up parchment tied to its leg. Marie removed the parchment, then fed the owl a treat.

"Do you think it's from Hogwarts, about that job you applied for?" Asked Jenny Scotten, the girl who shared the rent on her flat.

"Doesn't look official." Marie said, breaking the seal and unrolling the parchment.

She had only read a few lines when her hand flew to her mouth and she sat down on the couch, turning quite pale.

"What is it?" Asked Jenny, getting up and coming over to sit down next to her. "Is everything alright?"

Marie nodded, her breath coming in short gasps, her body trembling. She held out the parchment to her friend.

Taking it, Jenny read silently.

_Dear Marie,_

_I hope this letter finds you doing well. I hope that you will not burn this immediately, upon seeing my name. I'm writing to you to tell you that Professor Snape is alive. Do not believe what they say in the papers. I know he is alive because I took him to the Hospital Wing the night that the Dark Lord was killed by Harry Potter. I gave him a bezoar and potions, and then disillusioned him so I could slip him past the Aurors._

_If you wish, I will meet you at a place of your choosing and draw the memory out so you may view it in a pensive, to prove that I am telling the truth._

_I hope that in some small way this makes things right between us, after what I did to you. I beg your forgiveness for my stupidity and cruelty._

_With humblest apologies,_

_Eugenia Hargrove_

ooOoo

Author notes~

Ma chérie: (Fr.) "My darling"

ma bichette : (Fr.) "My little doe (endearment used with young girls)


End file.
